L 


[See  p.  10 


SHE    SCANNED    THE    SEA    FOR    A    SAIL 


A 

LADDER  OF  SWORD.S 

A  TALE  OF  LOVE,  LAUGHTER 
AND  TEARS 

BY 

GILBERT   gARKEJL 


"  On  every  height  there  lies  repose  ;  and  so  must 
we  still  be  climbing ;  but  alas  1 1  have  been  climbing 
a  ladder  of  swords  these  many  years." 

(From  a  woman's  letter.) 


ILLUSTRATED   BY   THE   KINNEYS 


TORONTO : 

THE  COPP,  CLARK  COMPANY,  LIMITED. 
1904 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  the  Parliament  of  Canada,  in  the  year 
one  thousand  nine  hundred  and  four,  by  GILBERT  PARKER,  London, 
England,  in  the  Office  of  the  Minister  of  Agriculture. 


All  rightg  reserved. 


To 

The  Countess  of  Darnley 

Whose   Home   Contains    Many  Relics   and 

Memories  of  the  Spacious  Times  of 

Queen   Elizabeth,  the  Friend 

of  Michel  and  Angele 


A  Note 

There  will  be  found  a  few  anachronisms 
in  this  tale,  but  none  so  important  as  to 
give  a  wrong  impression  of  the  events  of 
Queen  Elizabeth's  reign. 


Illustrations 


"SHE    SCANNED   THE    SEA    FOR   A    SAIL"     .      .  Frontispiece 
ISLAND   OP   JERSEY Facing  p.     I 

"'LET  us  KNEEL  AND  PRAY  FOR  TWO  DYING 

MEN'" "  28 

"BUONESPOIR  LOOKED  TO  THE  PRIMING  OP 

HIS  PISTOLS" "  70 

"SHE  WAS  IN  CURIOUS  CONTRAST  TO  THE 

QUEEN" "  128 

'"HANG  FAST  TO  YOUR  HONORS  BY  THE  SKIN 

OF  YOUR  TEETH,  MY  LORD'"  ....  "  162 

"IT  WAS  THE  QUEEN'S  FOOL" "  220 

"THEY  SAW,  SMILING  AND  APPLAUSIVE,  THB 

DUKE'S  DAUGHTER  AND  ANG&LE "  .  .  "  266 
"'AND  WHAT  MATTER  WHICH  IT  is  WE 

WIELD'" "      276 


"Come  hither,  O  come  hither, 

There's  a  bride  upon  her  bed; 
They  have  strewn  her  o'er  with  roses, 

There  are  roses  'neath  her  head: 
Life  is  love  and  tears  and  laughter, 

But  the  laughter  it  is  dead — - 
Sing  the  way  to  the  valley,  to  the  valley! 

Hey,  but  the  roses  they  are  red!" 


F  you  go  to  Southampton 
and  search  the  register  of 
the  Walloon  church  there, 
you  will  find  that  in  the 
summer  of  157-"  Madame 
Vefue  de  Montgomery  with 
all  her  family  and  servants  were  admitted  to 
the  Communion" — "Tous  ceux  cj  furent  Re$us 
la  a  Cene  du  157-,  comme  passans,  sans 
avoir  Rendu  Raison  de  la  foj,  mes  sur  la  tes- 
mQgnage  de  Mons.  Forest,  Ministre  de  Ma- 
dame, quj  certifia  quj  ne  cognoisoit  Rien  en  tout 
ceux  la  por  quoy  II  ne  leur  deust  administre  la 
Cene  s'il  estoit  en  lieu  por  la  ferre" 

There  is  another  striking  record,   which 
says  that  in  August  of  the  same  year  De- 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

moiselle  Angele  Claude  Aubert,  daughter  of 
Monsieur  de  la  Haie  Aubert,  Councillor  of 
the  Parliament  of  Rouen,  was  married  to 
Michel  de  la  Foret,  of  the  most  noble  Flem- 
ish family  of  that  name. 

When  I  first  saw  these  records,  now  grown 
dim  with  time,  I  fell  to  wondering  what  was 
the  real  life -history  of  these  two  people. 
Forthwith,  in  imagination,  I  began  to  make 
their  story  piece  by  piece ;  and  I  had  reached 
a  romantic  denofiment  satisfactory  to  my- 
self and  in  sympathy  with  fact,  when  the 
Angel  of  Accident  stepped  forward  with 
some  "human  documents."  Then  I  found 
that  my  tale,  woven  back  from  the  two  ob- 
scure records  I  have  given,  was  the  true  story 
of  two  most  unhappy  yet  most  happy  peo- 
ple. From  the  note  struck  in  my  mind, 
when  my  finger  touched  that  sorrowful  page 
in  the  register  of  the  Church  of  the  Refugees 
at  Southampton,  had  spread  out  the  whole 
melody  and  the  very  book  of  the  song. 

One  of  the  later-discovered  records  was  a 
letter,  tear-stained,  faded,  beautifully  writ- 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

ten  in  old  French,  from  Demoiselle  Angele 
Claude  Aubert  to  Michel  de  la  Fordt  at  An- 
vers  in  March  of  the  year  157-.  The  letter 
lies  beside  me  as  I  write,  and  I  can  scarcely 
believe  that  three  and  a  quarter  centuries 
have  passed  since  it  was  written,  and  that 
she  who  wrote  it  was  but  eighteen  years  old 
at  the  time.  I  translate  it  into  English, 
though  it  is  impossible  adequately  to  carry 
over  either  the  flavor  or  the  idiom  of  the 
language : 

"Written  on  this  May  Day  of  the  year 
157-,  at  the  place  hight  Rozel  in  the 
Minor  called  of  the  same  of  Jersey 
Isle,  to  Michel  de  la  Foret,  at  Anvers 
in  Flanders. 

"MICHEL, — Thy  good  letter  by  safe  car- 
riage cometh  to  my  hand,  bringing  to  my 
heart  a  lightness  it  hath  not  known  since 
that  day  when  I  was  hastily  carried  to  the 
port  of  St.  Malo,  and  thou  towards  the  King 
his  prison.  In  what  great  fear  have  I  lived, 
having  no  news  of  thee  and  fearing  all  man- 
ner of  mischance!  But  our  God  hath  be- 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

nignly  saved  thee  from  death,  and  me  He 
hath  set  safely  here  in  this  isle  of  the  sea. 

"Thou  hast  ever  been  a  brave  soldier,  en- 
during and  not  fearing ;  thou  shalt  find  enow 
to  keep  thy  blood  stirring  in  these- days  of 
trial  and  peril  to  us  who  are  so  opprobrious- 
ly  called  Les  Huguenots.  If  thou  wouldst 
know  more  of  my  mind  thereupon,  come 
hither.  Safety  is  here,  and  work  for  thee— 
smugglers  and  pirates  do  abound  on  these 
coasts,  and  Popish  wolves  do  harry  the  flock 
even  in  this  island  province  of  England. 
Michel,  I  plead  for  the  cause  which  thou  hast 
nobly  espoused,  but — alas!  my  selfish  heart, 
where  thou  art  lie  work  and  fighting,  and 
the  same  high  cause,  and  sadly,  I  confess,  it 
is  for  my  own  happiness  that  I  ask  thee  to 
come.  I  wot  well  that  escape  from  France 
hath  peril,  that  the  way  hither  from  that 
point  upon  yonder  coast  called  Carteret  is 
hazardous,  but  yet — but  yet  all  ways  to 
happiness  are  set  with  hazard. 

"If  thou  dost  come  to  Carteret  thou  wilt 
see  two  lights  turning  this-wards:  one  upon 
a  headland  called  Tour  de  Rozel,  and  one 
4 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

upon  the  great  rock  called  of  the  Ecrelios. 
These  will  be  in  line  with  thy  sight  by  the 
sands  of  Hatainville.  Near  by  the  Tour  de 
Rozel  shall  I  be  watching  and  awaiting  thee. 
By  day  and  night  doth  my  prayer  ascend  for 
thee. 

"The  messenger  who  bears  this  to  thee  (a 
piratical  knave  with  a  most  kind  heart,  hav- 
ing, I  am  told,  a  wife  in  every  port  of  France 
and  of  England  the  south,  a  most  heinous 
sin!)  will  wait  for  thy  answer,  or  will  bring 
thee  hither,  which  is  still  better.  He  is 
worthy  of  trust  if  thou  makest  him  swear  by 
the  little  finger  of  St.  Peter.  By  all  other 
swearings  he  doth  deceive  freely. 

"The  Lord  make  thee  true,  Michel.  If 
thou  art  faithful  to  me,  I  shall  know  how 
faithful  thou  art  in  all ;  for  thy  vows  to  me 
were  most  frequent  and  pronounced,  with  a 
full  savor  that  might  warrant  short  season- 
ing. Yet,  because  thou  mayst  still  be  given 
to  such  dear  fantasies  of  truth  as  were  on 
thy  lips  in  those  dark  days  wherein  thy 
sword  saved  my  life  'twixt  Paris  and  Rouen, 
I  tell  thee  now  that  I  do  love  thee,  and  shall 
5 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

so  love  when,  as  my  heart  inspires  me,  the 
cloud  shall  fall  that  will  hide  us  from  each 
other  forever. 

"ANGELE 
"An  Afterword: 

"  I  doubt  not  we  shall  come  to  the  heights 
where  there  is  peace,  though  we  climb  there- 
to by  a  ladder  of  swords.  A." 

Some  years  before  Angele's  letter  was 
written,  Michel  de  la  Foret  had  become  an 
officer  in  the  army  of  Comte  Gabriel  de  Mont- 
gomery, and  fought  with  him  until  what 
time  the  great  chief  was  besieged  in  the 
castle  of  Domfront  in  Normandy.  When 
the  siege  grew  desperate,  Montgomery  be- 
sought the  intrepid  young  Huguenot  soldier 
to  escort  Madame  de  Montgomery  to  Eng- 
land, to  be  safe  from  the  oppression  and 
misery  sure  to  follow  any  mishap  to  this 
noble  leader  of  the  Cami  sards; 

At  the  very  moment  of  departure  of  the 

refugees  from  Domfront  with  the  Comtesse, 

Angele's    messenger — the    "piratical   knave 

with  a  most  kind  heart" — presented  him- 

6 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

self,  delivered  her  letter  to  De  la  Foret,  and 
proceeded  with  the  party  to  the  coast  of 
Normandy  by  St.  Brieuc.  Embarking  there 
in  a  lugger  which  Buonespoir  the  pirate  se- 
cured for  them,  they  made  for  England. 

Having  come  but  half-way  of  the  Channel, 
the  lugger  was  stopped  by  an  English  frigate. 
After  much  persuasion  the  captain  of  the 
frigate  agreed  to  land  Madame  de  Mont- 
gomery upon  the  island  of  Jersey,  but  forced 
De  la  Foret  to  return  to  the  coast  of  France ; 
and  Buonespoir  elected  to  return  with  him. 


II 


EANWHILE  Angele  had 
gone  through  many  phases 
of  alternate  hope  and  de- 
spair. She  knew  that  Mont- 
gomery the  Camisard  was 
dead,  and  a  rumor,  car- 
ried by  refugees,  reached  her  that  De  la 
Foret  had  been  with  him  to  the  end. 
To  this  was  presently  added  the  word 
that  De  la  Foret  had  been  beheaded.  But 
one  day  she  learned  that  the  Comtesse  de 
Montgomery  was  sheltered  by  the  gov- 
ernor, Sir  Hugh  Pawlett,  her  kinsman,  at 
Mont  Orgueil  Castle.  Thither  she  went  in 
fear  from  her  refuge  at  Rozel,  and  was  ad- 
mitted to  the  Comtesse.  There  she  learned 
the  joyful  truth  that  De  la  Foret  had  not 
been  slain,  and  was  in  hiding  on  the  coast 
of  Normandy. 

8 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

The  long  waiting  was  a  sore  trial,  yet 
laughter  was  often  upon  her  lips  henceforth. 
The  peasants,  the  farmers  and  fishermen  of 
Jersey,  at  first — as  they  have  ever  been — 
little  inclined  towards  strangers,  learned  at 
last  to  look  for  her  in  the  fields  and  upon 
the  shore,  and  laughed  in  response,  they 
knew  not  why,  to  the  quick  smiling  of  her 
eyes.  She  even  learned  to  speak  their  un- 
musical but  friendly  Norman- Jersey  French. 
There  were  at  least  a  half-dozen  fishermen 
who,  for  her,  would  have  gone  at  night 
straight  to  the  Witches'  Rock  in  St.  Clement's 
Bay — and  this  was  bravery  unmatched. 

It  came  to  be  known  along  the  coast  that 
"ma'm'selle"  was  waiting  for 'a  lover  fleeing 
from  the  French  coast.  This  gave  her  fresh 
interest  in  the  eyes  of  the  serfs  and  sailors 
and  their  women  folk,  who  at  first  were  not 
inclined  towards  the  Huguenot  maiden, 
partly  because  she  was  French,  and  partly 
because  she  was  not  a  Catholic.  But  even 
these,  when  they  saw  that  she  never  talked 
religiously,  that  she  was  fast  learning  to 
speak  their  own  homely  patois,  and  that  in 
9 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

the  sickness  of  their  children  she  was  un- 
tiring in  her  kindness,  forgave  the  austerity 
of  the  gloomy-browed  old  man  her  father, 
who  spoke  to  them  distantly,  or  never  spoke 
at  all;  and  her  position  was  secure.  Then, 
upon  the  other  hand,  the  gentry  of  the 
manors,  seeing  the  friendship  grow  between 
her  and  the  Comtesse  de  Montgomery  at 
Mont  Orgueil  Castle,  made  courteous  ad- 
vances towards  her  father,  and  towards  her- 
self through  him. 

She  could  scarce  have  counted  the  num- 
ber of  times  she  climbed  the  great  hill  like 
a  fortress  at  the  lift  of  the  little  Bay  of  Rozel, 
and  from  the  Nez  du  Guet  scanned  the  sea 
for  a  sail  and  the  sky  for  fair  weather.  When 
her  eyes  were  not  thus  busy,  they  were 
searching  the  lee  of  the  hill-side  round  for 
yellow  lilies,  and  the  valley  below  for  the 
campion,  the  daffodil,  and  the  thousand 
pretty  ferns  growing  in  profusion  there. 
Every  night  she  looked  out  to  see  that  her 
signal-fire  was  lit  upon  the  Nez  du  Guet,  and 
she  never  went  to  bed  without  taking  one 
last  look  over  the  sea,  in  the  restless,  invet- 
10 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

erate  hope  which  at  once  sustained  her  and 
devoured  her. 

But  the  longest  waiting  must  end.  It 
came  on  the  evening  of  the  very  day  that 
the  Seigneur  of  Rozel  went  to  Angele's  father 
and  bluntly  told  him  he  was  ready  to  fore- 
go all  Norman-Jersey  prejudice  against  the 
French  and  the  Huguenot  religion,  and  take 
Angele  to  wife  without  penny  or  estate. 

In  reply  to  the  seigneur,  Monsieur  Aubert 
said  that  he  was  conscious  of  an  honor,  and 
referred  monsieur  to  his  daughter,  who  must 
answer  for  herself ;  but  he  must  tell  Monsieur 
of  Rozel  that  monsieur's  religion  would,  in 
his  own  sight,  be  a  high  bar  to  the  union.  To 
that  the  seigneur  said  that  no  religion  that 
he  had  could  be  a  bar  to  anything  at  all, 
and  so  long  as  the  young  lady  could  manage 
her  household,  drive  a  good  bargain  with  the 
craftsmen  and  hucksters,  and  have  the  hand- 
somest face  and  manners  in  the  Channel 
Islands,  he'd  ask  no  more;  and  she  might 
pray  for  him  and  his  salvation  without  let  or 
hindrance. 

The  seigneur  found  the  young  lady  in  a 
ii 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

little  retreat  among  the  rocks,  called  by  the 
natives  La  Chart  e.  Here  she  sat  sewing  upon 
some  coarse  linen  for  a  poor  fisherwoman's 
babe  when  the  seigneur  came  near.  She 
heard  the  scrunch  of  his  heels  upon  the 
gravel,  the  clank  of  his  sword  upon  the  rocks, 
and  looked  up  with  a  flush,  her  needle  poised ; 
for  none  should  know  of  her  presence  in  this 
place  save  her  father.  When  she  saw  who 
was  her  visitor,  she  rose.  After  greeting 
and  compliment,  none  too  finely  put,  but 
more  generous  than  fitted  with  Jersey  parsi- 
mony, the  gentleman  of  Rozel  came  at  once 
to  the  point. 

"My  name  is  none  too  bad,"  said  he — 
"Raoul  Lempriere,  of  the  Lemprieres  that 
have  been  here  since  Rollo  ruled  in  Nor- 
mandy. My  estate  is  none  worse  than  any 
in  the  whole  islands ;  I  have  more  horses  and 
dogs  than  any  gentleman  of  my  acres ;  and  I 
am  more  in  favor  at  court  than  De  Carteret 
of  St.  Ouen's.  I  am  the  Queen's  butler,  and 
I  am  the  first  that  royal  favor  granted  to  set 
up  three  dove-cotes,  one  by  St.  Aubin's,  one 
by  St.  Helier's,  and  one  at  Rozel ;  and — and," 
12 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

he  added,  with  a  lumbering  attempt  at  hu- 
mor— "and,  on  my  oath,  I'll  set  up  another 
dove-cote  without  my  sovereign's  favor, 
with  your  leave  alone.  By  Our  Lady,  I  do 
love  that  color  in  yon  cheek!  Just  such  a 
color  had  my  mother  when  she  snatched 
from  the  head  of  my  cousin  of  Carteret's  milk- 
maid-wife the  bonnet  of  a  lady  of  quality 
and  bade  her  get  to  her  heifers.  God's 
beauty!  but  'tis  a  color  of  red  primroses  in 
thy  cheeks  and  blue  campions  in  thine  eyes. 
Come,  I  warrant  I  can  deepen  that  color" — 
he  bowed  low — "Madame  of  Rozel,  if  it  be 
not  too  soon!" 

The  girl  listened  to  this  cheerful  and  loqua- 
cious proposal  and  courtship  all  in  one,  end- 
ing with  the  premature  bestowal  of  a  title, 
in  mingled  anger,  amusement,  disdain,  and 
apprehension.  Her  heart  fluttered,  then 
stood  still,  then  flew  up  in  her  throat,  then 
grew  terribly  hot  and  hurt  her,  so  that  she 
pressed  her  hand  to  her  bosom  as  though  that 
might  ease  it.  By  the  time  he  had  finished, 
drawn  himself  up,  and  struck  his  foot  upon 
the  ground  in  burly  emphasis  of  his  devoted 
13 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

statements,  the  girl  had  sufficiently  recovered 
to  answer  him  composedly,  and  with  a  little 
glint  of  demure  humor  in  her  eyes.  She 
loved  another  man ;  she  did  not  care  so  much 
as  a  spark  for  this  happy,  swearing,  swash- 
buckling gentleman;  yet  she  saw  he  had 
meant  to  do  her  honor.  He  had  treated  her 
as  courteously  as  was  in  him  to  do ;  he  chose 
her  out  from  all  the  ladies  of  his  acquaint- 
ance to  make  her  an  honest  offer  of  his  hand 
— he  had  said  nothing  about  his  heart;  he 
would,  should  she  marry  him,  throw  her 
scraps  of  good -humor,  bearish  tenderness, 
drink  to  her  health  among  his  fellows,  and 
respect  and  admire  her — even  exalt  her  al- 
most to  the  rank  of  a  man  in  his  own  eyes ; 
and  he  had  the  tolerance  of  the  open-hearted 
and  open-handed  man.  All  these  things 
were  as  much  a  compliment  to  her  as  though 
she  were  not  a  despised  Huguenot,  an  exiled 
lady  of  no  fortune.  She  looked  at  him  a 
moment  with  an  almost  solemn  intensity,  so 
that  he  shifted  his  ground  uneasily,  but  at 
once  smiled  encouragingly,  to  relieve  her 
embarrassment  at  the  unexpected  honor 
14 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

done  her.  She  had  remained  standing ;  now, 
as  he  made  a  step  towards  her,  she  sank  down 
upon  the  seat  and  waved  him  back  cour- 
teously. 

"A  moment,  Monsieur  of  Rozel,"  she  vent- 
ured. "Did  my  father  send  you  to  me?" 

He  inclined  his  head  and  smiled  again. 

"Did  you  say  to  him  what  you  have  said 
to  me?"  she  asked,  not  quite  without  a 
touch  of  malice. 

"  I  left  out  about  the  color  in  the  cheek," 
he  answered,  with  a  smirk  at  what  he  took 
to  be  the  quickness  of  his  wit. 

"You  kept  your  paint-pot  for  me,"  she 
replied,  softly. 

"And  the  dove-cote,  too,"  he  rejoined, 
bowins:  finely,  and  almost  carried  off  his  feet 
by  his  own  brilliance. 

She  became  serious  at  once — so  quickly 
that  he  was  ill  prepared  for  it,  and  could  do 
little  but  stare  and  pluck  at  the  tassel  of  his 
sword,  embarrassed  before  this  maiden,  who 
changed  as  quickly  as  the  currents  change 
under  the  brow  of  the  Couperon  Cliff,  behind 
which  lay  his  manor-house  of  Rozel. 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"I  have  visited  at  your  manor,  Monsieur 
of  Rozel.  I  have  seen  the  state  in  which 
you  live,  your  retainers,  your  men-at-arms, 
your  farming-folk,  and  your  sailor-men.  I 
know  how  your  Queen  receives  you;  how 
your  honor  is  as  stable  as  your  fief." 

He  drew  himself  up  again  proudly.  He 
could  understand  this  speech. 

"Your  horses  and  your  hounds  I  have 
seen,"  she  added,  "your  men-servants  and 
your  maid-servants,  your  fields  of  corn,  your 
orchards,  and  your  larder.  I  have  sometimes 
broken  the  commandment  and  coveted  them 
and  envied  you." 

"Break  the  commandment  again  for  the 
last  time,"  he  cried,  delighted  and  boister- 
ous. "  Let  us  not  waste  words,  lady.  Let's 
kiss  and  have  it  over." 

Her  eyes  flashed.  "I  coveted  them  and 
envied  you ;  but,  then,  I  am  but  a  vain  girl 
at  times,  and  vanity  is  easier  to  me  than 
humbleness." 

"  Blood  of  man,  but  I  cannot  understand 
so  various  a  creature!"  he  broke  in,  again 
puzzled. 

16 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"There  is  a  little  chapel  in  the  dell  beside 
your  manor,  monsieur.  If  you  will  go  there, 
and  get  upon  your  knees,  and  pray  till  the 
candles  no  more  burn  and  the  Popish  images 
crumble  in  their  places,  you  will  yet  never 
understand  myself  or  any  woman." 

"There's  no  question  of  Popish  images 
between  us,"  he  answered,  vainly  trying 
for  foothold.  "Pray  as  you  please,  and 
I'll  see  no  harm  comes  to  the  Mistress  of 
Rozel." 

He  was  out  of  his  bearings  and  impatient. 
Religion  to  him  was  a  dull  recreation  in- 
vented chiefly  for  women. 

She  became  plain  enough  now.  "'Tis  no 
images  nor  religion  that  stands  between  us," 
she  answered,  "though  they  might  well  do 
so.  It  is  that  I  do  not  love  you,  Monsieur 
of  Rozel." 

His  face,  which  had  slowly  clouded,  sud- 
denly cleared. 

"Love!  Love!"  He  laughed  good-hu- 
moredly.  "Love  comes,  I'm  told,  with 
marriage.  But  we  can  do  well  enough  with- 
out fugling  on  that  pipe.  Come,  come,  dost 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

think  I'm  not  a  proper  man  and  a  gentleman  ? 
Dost  think  I'll  not  use  thee  well  and  'fend 
thee,  Huguenot  though  thou  art,  'gainst 
trouble  or  fret  or  any  man's  persecutions — 
be  he  my  lord  bishop,  my  lord  chancellor, 
or  King  of  France,  or  any  other?" 

She  came  a  step  closer  to  him,  even  as 
though  she  would  lay  a  hand  upon  his  arm. 
"  I  believe  that  you  would  do  all  that  in  you 
lay,"  she  answered,  steadily.  "Yours  is  a 
rough  wooing,  but  it  is  honest — " 

"Rough!  Rough!"  he  protested,  for  he 
thought  he  had  behaved  like  some  Adonis. 
Was  it  not  ten  years  only  since  he  had  been 
at  court? 

"Be  assured,  monsieur,  that  I  know  how 
to  prize  the  man  who  speaks  after  the  light 
given  him.  I  know  that  you  are  a  brave 
and  valorous  gentleman.  I  must  thank  you 
most  truly  and  heartily,  but,  monsieur,  you 
and  yours  are  not  for  me.  Seek  elsewhere, 
among  your  own  people,  in  your  own  religion 
and  language  and  position,  the  Mistress  of 
Rozel." 

He  was  dumfounded.  Now  he  com- 
18 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

prehended  the  plain  fact  that  he  had  been 
declined. 

"You  send  me  packing!"  he  blurted  out, 
getting  red  in  the  face. 

"Ah,  no !  Say  that  is  my  misfortune  that 
I  cannot  give  myself  the  great  honor,"  she 
said,  in  her  tone  a  little  disdainful  dryness, 
a  little  pity,  a  little  feeling  that  here  was  a 
good  friend  lost. 

"  It's  not  because  of  the  French  soldier  that 
was  with  Montgomery  at  Domfront? — I've 
heard  that  story.  But  he's  gone  to  heaven, 
and  'tis  vain  crying  for  last  year's  breath," 
he  said,  with  proud  philosophy. 

"He  is  not  dead.  And  if  he  were,"  she 
added,  "do  you  think,  monsieur,  that  we 
should  find  it  easier  to  cross  the  gulf  between 
us?" 

"Tut!  tut!  that  bugbear  love!"  he  said, 
shortly.  "And  so  you'd  lose  a  good  friend 
for  a  dead  lover  ?  I'  faith,  I'd  befriend  thee 
well  if  thou  wert  my  wife,  ma'm'selle." 

"It  is  hard  for  those  who  need  friends  to 
lose  them,"  she  answered,  sadly. 

The  sorrow  of  her  position  crept  in  upon 
19 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

her  and  filled  her  eyes  with  tears.  She  turn- 
ed them  to  the  sea — instinctively  towards 
that  point  on  the  shore  where  she  thought  it 
likely  Michel  might  be— as  though  by  looking 
she  might  find  comfort  and  support  in  this 
hard  hour. 

Even  as  she  gazed  into  the  soft  afternoon 
light  she  could  see,  far  over,  a  little  sail 
standing  out  towards  the  Ecrehos.  Not 
once  in  six  months  might  the  coast  of  France 
be  seen  so  clearly.  One  might  almost  have 
noted  people  walking  on  the  beach.  This 
was  no  good  token,  for  when  that  coast  may 
be  seen  with  great  distinctness  a  storm  fol- 
lows hard  after.  The  girl  knew  this,  and, 
though  she  could  not  know  that  this  was 
Michel  de  la  Foret's  boat,  the  possibility  fix- 
ed itself  in  her  mind.  She  quickly  scanned 
the  horizon.  Yes,  there  in  the  northwest 
was  gathering  a  dark-blue  haze,  hanging  like 
small,  filmy  curtains  in  the  sky. 

The  Seigneur  of  Rozel  presently  broke  the 

silence  so  awkward  for  him.     He  had  seen 

the  tears  in  her  eyes,  and,  though  he  could 

not  guess  the  cause,  he  vaguely  thought  it 

20 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

might  be  due  to  his  announcement  that  she 
had  lost  a  friend.  He  was  magnanimous  at 
once,  and  he  meant  what  he  said,  and  would 
stand  by  it  through  thick  and  thin. 

"Well,  well,  I'll  be  thy  everlasting  friend 
if  not  thy  husband,"  he  said,  with  ornate 
generosity.  "  Cheer  thy  heart,  lady." 

With  a  sudden  impulse  she  seized  his  hand 
and  kissed  it,  and,  turning,  ran  swiftly  down 
the  rocks  towards  her  home. 

He  stood  and  looked  after  her,  then,  dum- 
founded,  at  the  hand  she  had  kissed. 

"Blood  of  my  heart!"  he  said,  and  shook 
his  head  in  utter  amazement. 

Then  he  turned  and  looked  out  upon  the 
Channel.  He  saw  the  little  boat  Angele  had 
descried  making  from  France.  Glancing  at 
the  sky,  "What  fools  come  there!"  he  said, 
anxiously. 

They  were  Michel  de  la  Foret  and  Buones- 
pdir  the  pirate,  in  a  black-bellied  cutter  with 
red  sails. 


Ill 


OR  weeks  De  la  Foret  and 
Bounespoir  had  lain  in  hid- 
ing at  St.  Brieuc.  At  last 
Buonespoir  declared  all  was 
ready  once  again.  He  had 
secured  for  the  Camisard 
the  passport  and  clothes  of  a  priest  who  had 
but  just  died  at  Granville.  Once  again  they 
made  the  attempt  to  reach  English  soil. 

Standing  out  from  Carteret  on  the  Belle 
Suzanne,  they  steered  for  the  light  upon  the 
Marmotier  Rocks  of  the  Ecrehos,  which  An- 
gele  had  paid  a  fisherman  to  keep  going  every 
night.  This  light  had  caused  the  French 
and  English  frigates  some  uneasiness,  and 
they  had  patrolled  the  Channel  from  Cap  de 
la  Hague  to  the  Bay  of  St.  Brieuc  with  a 
vigilance  worthy  of  a  larger  cause.  One 
fine  day  an  English  frigate  anchored  off  the 
22 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Ecrehos,  and  the  fisherman  was  seized.  He, 
poor  man,  swore  that  he  kept  the  light  burn- 
ing to  guide  his  brother  fishermen  to  and  fro 
between  Boulay  Bay  and  the  Ecrehos.  The 
captain  of  the  frigate  tried  severities ;  but  the 
fisherman  stuck  to  his  tale,  and  the  light 
burned  on  as  before — a  lantern  stuck  upon 
a  pole.  One  day,  with  a  telescope,  Buones- 
poir  had  seen  the  exact  position  of  the  staff 
supporting  the  light  and  had  mapped  out 
his  course  accordingly.  He  would  head 
straight  for  the  beacon  and  pass  between  the 
Marmotier  and  the  Maitre  lie,  where  is  a 
narrow  channel  for  a  boat  drawing  only  a 
few  feet  of  water.  Unless  he  made  this  he 
must  run  south  and  skirt  the  Ecriviere  Rock 
and  bank,  where  the  streams  setting  over 
the  sandy  ridges  make  a  confusing,  perilous 
sea  to  mariners  in  bad  weather.  Or  he  must 
sail  north  between  the  Ecrelios  and  the  Dirou- 
illes,  in  the  channel  called  Etoc,  a  tortuous 
and  dangerous  passage  save  in  good  weather, 
and  then  safe  only  to  the  mariner  who  knows 
the  floor  of  that  strait  like  his  own  hand. 
De  la  Foret  was  wholly  in  the  hands  of 
23 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Buonespoir,  for  he  knew  nothing  of  these 
waters  and  coasts;  also  he  was  a  soldier  and 
no  sailor. 

They  cleared  Cape  Carteret  with  a  fair 
wind  from  the  northeast,  which  should  carry 
them  safely  as  the  bird  flies  to  the  haven  of 
Rozel.  The  high,  pinkish  sands  of  Hatain- 
ville  were  behind  them ;  the  treacherous  Tail- 
lepied  rocks  lay  to  the  north,  and  a  sweet 
sea  before.  Nothing  could  have  seemed 
fairer  and  more  hopeful.  But  a  few  old 
fishermen  on  shore  at  Carteret  shook  their 
heads  dubiously,  and  at  Port  Bail,  some 
miles  below,  a  disabled  naval  officer,  watch- 
ing through  a  glass,  rasped  out,  "Criminals 
or  fools!"  But  he  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
for  if  they  were  criminals  he  was  sure  they 
would  expiate  their  crimes  this  night,  and  if 
they  were  fools — he  had  no  pity  for  fools. 

But  Buonespoir  knew  his  danger.  Truth 
is,  he  had  chosen  this  night  because  they 
would  be  safest  from  pursuit,  because  no 
sensible  seafaring  man,  were  he  king's  officei 
or  another,  would  venture  forth  upon  the 
impish  Channel  save  to  court  disaster. 
24 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Pirate  and  soldier  in  priest's  garb  had  frank- 
ly taken  the  chances. 

With  a  fair  wind  they  might,  with  all 
canvas  set— mainsail,  foresail,  jib,  and  fore- 
topsail — make  Rozel  Bay  within  two  hours 
and  a  quarter.  All  seemed  well  for  a  brief 
half-hour.  Then,  even  as  the  passage  be- 
tween the  Marmotier  and  the  Ecrehos  open- 
ed out,  the  wind  suddenly  shifted  from  the 
northeast  to  the  southwest  and  a  squall 
came  hurrying  on  them — a  few  moments  too 
soon ;  for,  had  they  been  clear  of  the  Ecrehos, 
clear  of  the  Taillepieds,  Felee  Bank,  and  the 
Ecriviere,  they  could  have  stood  out  towards 
the  north  in  a  more  open  sea. 

Yet  there  was  one  thing  in  their  favor :  the 
tide  was  now  running  hard  from  the  north- 
west, so  fighting  for  them  while  the  wind  was 
against  them.  Their  only  safety  lay  in  get- 
ting beyond  the  Ecr6hos.  If  they  attempted 
to  run  in  to  the  Marmotier  for  safety,  they 
would  presently  be  at  the  mercy  of  the 
French.  To  trust  their  doubtful  fortunes 
and  bear  on  was  the  only  way.  The  tide 
was  running  fast.  They  gave  the  mainsail 
25 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

to  the  wind  still  more,  and  bore  on  towards 
the  passage.  At  last,  as  they  were  opening 
on  it,  the  wind  suddenly  veered  full  north- 
east. The  sails  flapped,  the  boat  seemed  to 
hover  for  a  moment,  and  then  a  wave  swept 
her  towards  the  rocks.  Buonespoir  put  the 
helm  hard  over,  she  went  about,  and  they 
close-hauled  her  as  she  trembled  towards  the 
rocky  opening. 

This  was  the  critical  instant.  A  heavy  sea 
was  running,  the  gale  was  blowing  hard  from 
the  northeast,  and  under  the  close-hauled 
sail  the  Belle  Suzanne  was  lying  over  danger- 
ously. But  the  tide,  too,  was  running  hard 
from  the  south,  fighting  the  wind,  and  at 
the  moment  when  all  seemed  terribly  un- 
certain swept  them  past  the  opening  and 
into  the  swift-running  channel,  where  the  in- 
draught sucked  them  through  to  the  more 
open  water  beyond. 

Although  the  Belle  Suzanne  was  in  more 
open  water  now,  the  danger  was  not  over. 
Ahead  lay  a  treacherous  sea,  around  them 
roaring  winds,  and  the  perilous  coast  of 
Jersey  beyond  all. 

26  • 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"Do  you  think  we  shall  land?"  quietly 
asked  De  la  Foret,  nodding  towards  the 
Jersey  coast. 

"As  many  chances  'gainst  it  as  for  it, 
m'sieu',"  said  Buonespoir,  turning  his  face 
to  the  north,  for  the  wind  had  veered  again 
to  northeast,  and  he  feared  its  passing  to 
the  northwest,  giving  them  a  head-wind  and 
a  swooping  sea. 

Night  came  down,  but  with  a  clear  sky 
and  a  bright  moon,  the  wind,  however,  not 
abating.  The  next  three  hours  were  spent 
in  tacking,  in  beating  towards  the  Jersey 
coast  under  seas  which  almost  swamped 
them.  They  were  standing  off  about  a  mile 
from  the  island,  and  could  see  lighted  fires 
and  groups  of  people  upon  the  shore,  when 
suddenly  a  gale  came  out  from  the  south- 
west, the  wind  having  again  shifted.  With 
an  oath  Buonespoir  put  the  helm  hard 
over,  the  Belle  Suzanne  came  about  quick- 
ly, but  as  the  gale  struck  her  the  mast 
snapped  like  a  pencil,  she  heeled  over,  and 
the  two  adventurers  were  engulfed  in  the 
waves. 

27 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

A  cry  of  dismay  went  up  from  the  watchers 
on  the  shore.  They  turned  with  a  half -con- 
scious sympathy  towards  Angele,  for  her 
story  was  known  by  all,  and  in  her  face  they 
read  her  mortal  fear,  though  she  made  no 
cry,  but  only  clasped  her  hands  in  agony. 
Her  heart  told  her  that  yonder  Michel  de  la 
Foret  was  fighting  for  his  life.  For  an  in- 
stant only  she  stood,  the  terror  of  death  in 
her  eyes,  then  she  turned  to  the  excited  fish- 
ermen near. 

"Men,  oh  men!"  she  cried,  "will  you  not 
save  them?  Will  no  one  come  with  me?" 

Some  shook  their  heads  sullenly,  others 
appeared  uncertain,  but  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren clung  to  them,  and  none  stirred.  Look- 
ing round  helplessly,  Angele  saw  the  tall 
figure  of  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel.  He  had  been 
watching  the  scene  for  some  time.  Now  he 
came  quickly  to  her. 

"Is  it  the  very  man?"  he  asked  her,  jerk- 
ing a  finger  towards  the  struggling  figures  in 
the  sea. 

"Yes,  oh  yes,"  she  replied,  nodding  her 
head,  piteously.  "  God  tells  my  heart  it  is." 
28 


'"LET  us  KNEEL  AND  PRAY  FOR  TWO  DYING  MEN' 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Her  father  drew  near  and  interposed. 

"Let  us  kneel  and  pray  for  two  dying 
men,"  said  he,  and  straightway  knelt  upon 
the  sand. 

"  By  St.  Martin,  we've  better  medicine  than 
that,  apothecary!"  said  Lempriere  of  Rozel, 
loudly,  and,  turning  round,  summoned  two 
serving -men.  "Launch  my  strong  boat," 
he  added.  "We  will  pick  these  gentlemen 
from  the  brine  or  know  the  end  of  it  all." 

The  men  hurried  gloomily  to  the  long  boat, 
ran  her  down  to  the  shore  and  into  the  surf. 

"You  are  going  —  you  are  going  to  save 
him,  dear  seigneur?"  asked  the  girl,  tremu- 
lously. 

"  To  save  him — that's  to  be  seen,  mistress," 
answered  Lempriere,  and  advanced  to  the 
fishermen.  By  dint  of  hard  words  and  as 
hearty  encouragement  and  promises,  he  got 
a  half-dozen  strong  sailors  to  man  the  boat. 

A  moment  after,  they  were  all  in.  At  a 
motion  from  the  seigneur  the  boat  was  shot 
out  into  the  surf,  and  a  cheer  from  the  shore 
gave  heart  to  De  la  Foret  and  Buonespoir, 
who  were  being  driven  upon  the  rocks. 
29 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

The  Jersey  men  rowed  gallantly,  and  the 
seigneur,  to  give  them  heart,  promised  a 
shilling,  a  capon,  and  a  gallon  of  beer  to  each 
if  the  rescue  was  made.  Again  and  again 
the  two  men  seemed  to  sink  beneath  the  sea, 
and  again  and  again  they  came  to  the  surface 
and  battled  further,  torn,  battered,  and 
bloody,  but  not  beaten.  Cries  of,  "We're 
coming,  gentles,  we're  coming!"  from  the 
Seigneur  of  Rozel  came  ringing  through  the 
surf  to  the  dulled  ears  of  the  drowning  men, 
and  they  struggled  on. 

There  never  was  a  more  gallant  rescue. 
Almost  at  their  last  gasp  the  two  were  res- 
cued. 

"Mistress  Aubert  sends  you  welcome,  sir, 
if  you  be  Michel  de  la  Foret,"  said  Lem- 
priere  of  Rozel,  and  offered  the  fugitive  his 
horn  of  liquor  as  he  lay  blown  and  beaten  in 
the  boat. 

"I  am  he,"  De  la  Foret  answered.  "I 
owe  you  my  life,  monsieur,"  he  added. 

Lempriere  laughed.  "You  owe  it  to  the 
lady ;  and  I  doubt  you  can  properly  pay  the 
debt,"  he  answered,  with  a  toss  of  the  head; 
30 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

for  had  not  the  lady  refused  him,  the  Sei- 
gneur of  Rozel,  six  feet  six  in  height,  and  all 
else  in  proportion,  while  this  gentleman  was 
scarce  six  feet. 

"We  can  have  no  quarrel  upon  the  point," 
answered  De  la  Foret,  reaching  out  his  hand ; 
"you  have  at  least  done  tough  work  for  her, 
and  if  I  cannot  pay  in  gold  I  can  in  kind. 
It  was  a  generous  deed,  and  it  has  made  a 
friend  forever  of  Michel  de  la  Foret." 

"Raoul  Lempriere  of  Rozel  they  call  me, 
Michel  de  la  Foret,  and,  by  Rollo  the  Duke, 
but  I'll  take  your  word  in  the  way  of  friend- 
ship, as  the  lady  yonder  takes  it  for  riper 
fruit!  Though,  faith,  'tis  fruit  of  a  short 
summer,  to  my  thinking." 

All  this  while  Buonespoir  the  pirate,  his 
face  covered  with  blood,  had  been  swearing 
by  the  little  finger  of  St.  Peter  that  each 
Jerseyman  there  should  have  the  half  of  a 
keg  of  rum.  He  went  so  far  in  gratitude 
as  to  offer  the  price  of  ten  sheep  which 
he  had  once  secretly  raided  from  the  Sei- 
gneur of  Rozel  and  sold  in  France,  for  which 
he  had  been  seized  on  his  later  return  to 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

the  island  and  had  escaped  without  punish- 
ment. 

Hearing,  Lempriere  of  Rozel  roared  at  him 
in  anger:  "Durst  speak  to  me!  For  every 
fleece  you  thieved  I'll  have  you  flayed  with 
bowstrings  if  ever  I  sight  your  face  within 
my  boundaries." 

"Then  I'll  fetch  and  carry  no  more  for 
M'sieu'  of  Rozel,"  said  Buonespoir,  in  an 
offended  tone,  but  grinning  under  his  reddish 
beard. 

"When  didst  fetch  and  carry  for  me,  var- 
let?"  Lempriere  roared  again. 

"When  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel  fell  from  his 
horse,  overslung  with  sack,  the  night  of  the 
royal  duke's  visit,  and  the  footpads  were  on 
him,  I  carried  him  on  my  back  to  the  lodge 
of  Rozel  Manor.  The  footpads  had  scores 
to  settle  with  the  great  Rozel." 

For  a  moment  the  seigneur  stared,  then 
roared  again,  but  this  time  with  laughter. 

"  By  the  devil  and  Rollo,  I  have  sworn  to 
this  hour  that  there  was  no  man  in  the  isle 
could  have  carried  me  on  his  shoulders.  And 
I  was  right,  for  Jersiais  you're  none,  neither 

32 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

by  adoption  nor  grace,  but  a  citizen  of  the 
sea." 

He  laughed  again  as  a  wave  swept  over 
them,  drenching  them,  and  a  sudden  squall 
of  wind  came  out  of  the  north.  "  There's  no 
better  head  in  the  isle  than  mine  for  measure- 
ment and  thinking,  and  I  swore  no  man  un- 
der eighteen  stone  could  carry  me,  and  I  am 
twenty -five — I  take  you  to  be  nineteen  stone, 
eh?" 

"Nineteen,  less  two  ounces,"  grinned  Bu- 
onespoir. 

"  I'll  laugh  De  Carteret  of  St.  Ouen's  out 
of  his  stockings  over  this,"  answered  Lem- 
priere.  "  Trust  me  for  knowing  weights  and 
measures!  Look  you,  varlet,  thy  sins  be 
forgiven  thee.  I  care  not  about  the  fleeces, 
if  there  be  no  more  stealing.  St.  Ouen's  has 
no  head — I  said  no  one  man  in  Jersey  could 
have  done  it — I'm  heavier  by  three  stone 
than  any  man  in  the  island." 

Thereafter  there  was  little  speaking  among 
them,  for  the  danger  was  greater  as  they  near- 
ed  the  shore.  The  wind  and  the  sea  were 
against  them ;  the  tide,  however,  was  in  their 

33 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

favor.  Others  besides  M.  Aubert  offered  up 
prayers  for  the  safe  landing  of  the  rescued 
and  rescuers.  Presently  an  ancient  fisher- 
man broke  out  into  a  rude  sailor's  chantey, 
and  every  voice,  even  those  of  the  two  Hu- 
guenots, took  it  up: 

"When  the  Four  Winds,  the  Wrestlers,  strive  with 

the  Sun, 

When  the  Sun  is  slain  in  the  dark; 
When  the  stars  burn  out,  and  the  night  cries 
To  the  blind  sea-reapers,  and  they  rise, 
And  the  water-ways  are  stark — 

God  save  us  when  the  reapers  reap! 
When  the  ships  sweep  in  with  the  tide  to  the 

shore, 

And  the  little  white  boats  return  no  more; 
When  the  reapers  reap, 
Lord  give  Thy  sailors  sleep, 
If  Thou  cast  us  not  upon  the  shore, 
To  bless  Thee  evermore: 
To  walk  in  Thy  sight  as  heretofore 
Though  the  way  of  the  Lord  be  steep! 
By  Thy  grace, 
Show  Thy  face, 

Lord  of  the  land  and  the  deep!" 

The  song  stilled  at  last.     It  died  away  in 
,the  roar  of  the  surf,  in  the  happy  cries  of 
foolish  women  and  the  laughter  of  men  back 
34 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

from  a  dangerous  adventure.  As  the  sei- 
gneur's boat  was  drawn  up  the  shore  Angele 
threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  Michel  de  la 
Foret,  the  soldier  dressed  as  a  priest. 

Lempriere  of  Rozel  stood  abashed  before 
this  rich  display  of  feeling.  In  his  hottest 
youth  he  could  not  have  made  such  passion- 
ate motions  of  affection.  His  feelings  ran 
neither  high  nor  broad,  but  neither  did  they 
run  low  and  muddy.  His  nature  was  a 
straight  level  of  sensibility — a  rough  stream 
between  high  banks  of  prejudice,  topped 
with  the  foam  of  vanity,  now  brawling  in 
season,  and  now  going  steady  and  strong  to 
the  sea.  Angele  had  come  to  feel  what  he 
was  beneath  the  surface.  She  felt  how  un- 
imaginative he  was,  and  how  his  humor, 
which  was  but  the  horse-play  of  vanity, 
helped  him  little  to  understand  the  world  or 
himself.  His  vanity  was  ridiculous,  his  self- 
importance  was  against  knowledge  or  wis- 
dom; and  Heaven  had  given  him  a  small 
brain,  a  big  and  noble  heart,  a  pedigree  back 
to  Rollo,  and  the  absurd  pride  of  a  little  lord 
in  a  little  land.  Angele  knew  all  this,  but 
35 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

realized  also  that  he  had  offered  her  all  he 
was  able  to  offer  to  any  woman. 

She  went  now  and  put  out  both  hands  to 
him.  "I  shall  ever  pray  God's  blessing  on 
the  Lord  of  Rozel,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  'Twould  fit  me  no  better  than  St.  Ouen's 
sword  fits  his  fingers.  I'll  take  thine  own 
benison,  lady — but  on  my  cheek,  not  on  my 
hand  as  this  day  before  at  four  of  the  clock." 
His  big  voice  lowered.  "Come,  come,  the 
hand  thou  kissed,  it  hath  been  the  hand  of  a 
friend  to  thee,  as  Raoul  Lempriere  of  Rozel 
said  he'd  be.  Thy  lips  upon  his  cheek, 
though  it  be  but  a  rough  fellow's  fancy,  and 
I  warrant,  come  good,  come  ill,  Rozel's  face 
will  never  be  turned  from  thee.  Pooh,  pooh ! 
let  yon  soldier-priest  shut  his  eyes  a  minute ; 
this  is  'tween  me  and  thee ;  and  what's  done 
before  the  world's  without  shame." 

He  stopped  short,  his  black  eyes  blazing 
with  honest  mirth  and  kindness,  his  breath 
short,  having  spoken  in  such  haste. 

Her  eyes  could  scarce  see  him,  so  full  of 
tears  were  they,  and,  standing  on  tiptoe,  she 
kissed  him  upon  each  cheek. 
36 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"'Tis  much  to  get  for  so  little  given,"  she 
said,  with  a  quiver  in  her  voice;  "yet  this 
price  for  friendship  would  be  too  high  to  pay 
to  any  save  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel." 

She  hastily  turned  to  the  men  who  had 
rescued  Michel  and  Buonespoir.  "If  I  had 
riches,  riches  ye  should  have,  brave  men  of 
Jersey,"  she  said,  "but  I  have  naught  save 
love  and  thanks,  and  my  prayers,  too,  if  ye 
will  have  them." 

"  'Tis  a  man's  duty  to  save  his  fellow  an'  he 
can,"  cried  a  gaunt  fisherman,  whose  daugh- 
ter was  holding  to  his  lips  a  bowl  of  conger- 
eel  soup. 

"  'Twas  a  good  deed  to  send  us  forth  to 
save  a  priest  of  Holy  Church,"  cried  a  wea- 
zened boat-builder  with  a  giant's  arm,  as  he 
buried  his  face  in  a  cup  of  sack  and  plunged 
his  hand  into  a  fishwife's  basket  of  limpets. 

"Ay,  but  what  means  she  by  kissing  and 
arm-getting  with  a  priest?"  cried  a  snarling 
vraic- gatherer.  "  'Tis  some  jest  upon  Holy 
Church,  or  yon  priest  is  no  better  than  com- 
mon men,  but  an  idle  shame." 

By  this  time  Michel  was  among  them. 

37 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  Priest  I  am  none,  but  a  soldier,"  he  said,  in 
a  loud  voice,  and  told  them,  bluntly  the  rea- 
sons for  his  disguise;  then,  taking  a  purse 
from  his  pocket,  thrust  into  the  hands  of  his 
rescuers  and  their  families  pieces  of  silver 
and  gave  them  brave  words  of  thanks. 

But  the  seigneur  was  not  to  be  outdone 
in  generosity.  His  vanity  ran  high;  he  was 
fain  to  show  Angele  what  a  gorgeous  gentle- 
man she  had  failed  to  make  her  own ;  and  he 
was  in  ripe  good-humor  all  round. 

"Come,  ye  shall  come,  all  of  ye,  to  the 
Manor  of  Rozel,  every  man  and  woman  here. 
Ye  shall  be  fed,  and  fuddled  too  ye  shall  be 
an'  ye  will;  for  honest  drink  which  sends  to 
honest  sleep  hurts  no  man.  To  my  kitchen 
with  ye  all;  and  you,  messieurs" — turning 
to  M.  Aubert  and  De  la  Foret — "»and  you, 
mademoiselle,  come,  know  how  open  is  the 
door  and  full  the  table  at  my  Manor  of  Rozel 
— St.  Ouen's  keeps  a  beggarly  board." 


IV 


HUS  began  the  friendship 
of  the  bragging  Seigneur 
of  Rozel  for  the  three  Hu- 
guenots, all  because  he  had 
seen  tears  in  a  girl's  eyes 
and  misunderstood  them, 
and  because  the  same  girl  had  kissed  him. 
His  pride  was  flattered  that  they  should 
receive  protection  from  him,  and  the  flat- 
tery became  almost  a  canonizing  when  De 
Carteret  of  St.  Ouen's  brought  him  to  task 
for  harboring  and  comforting  the  despised 
Huguenots;  for  when  De  Carteret  railed 
he  was  envious.  So  henceforth  Lempriere 
played  lord  protector  with  still  more  bois- 
terous unction.  His  pride  knew  no  bounds 
when,  three  days  after  the  rescue,  Sir  Hugh 
Pawlett,  the  governor,  answering  De  la 
Foret's  letter  requesting  permission  to  visit 
39 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

the  Comtesse  de  Montgomery,  sent  him 
word  to  fetch  De  la  Foret  to  Mont  Orgueil 
Castle.  Clanking  and  blowing,  he  was 
shown  into  the  great  hall  with  De  la  Fo- 
ret, where  waited  Sir  Hugh  and  the  widow 
of  the  renowned  Camisard.  Clanking  and 
purring  like  an  enormous  cat,  he  turned  his 
head  away  to  the  window  when  De  la  Foret 
dropped  on  his  knees  and  kissed  the  hand 
of  the  comtesse,  whose  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 
Clanking  and  gurgling,  he  sat  at  a  mighty 
meal  of  turbot,  eels,  lobsters,  ormers,  capons, 
boar's  head,  brawn  and  mustard,  swan,  cur- 
lew, and  spiced  meats.  This  he  washed 
down  with  bastard,  malmsey,  and  good  ale, 
topped  with  almonds,  comfits,  perfumed 
cherries  with  "ipocras,"  then  sprinkled  him- 
self with  rose-water  and  dabbled  his  face  and 
hands  in  it.  Filled  to  the  turret,  he  lurched 
to  his  feet,  and,  drinking  to  Sir  Hugh's  toast, 
"  Her  sacred  Majesty!"  he  clanked  and  roar- 
ed "Elizabeth!"  as  though  upon  the  field  of 
battle.  He  felt  the  star  of  De  Carteret  de- 
clining and  Rozel's  glory  ascending  like  a 
comet.  Once  set  in  a  course,  nothing  could 
40 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

change  him.  Other  men  might  err,  but,  once 
right,  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel  was  everlasting. 

Of  late  he  had  made  the  cause  of  Michel 
de  la  Foret  and  Angele  Aubert  his  own.  For 
this  he  had  been  raked  upon  the  coals  by 
De  Carteret  of  St.  Ouen's  and  his  following, 
who  taunted  him  with  the  saying,  "Save  a 
thief  from  hanging  and  he'll  cut  your  throat." 
Not  that  there  was  ill  feeling  against  De  la 
Foret  in  person.  He  had  won  most  hearts 
by  a  frank  yet  still  manner,  and  his  story 
and  love  for  Angele  had  touched  the  women 
folk  where  their  hearts  were  softest.  But 
the  island  was  not  true  to  itself  or  its  his- 
tory if  it  did  not  divide  itself  into  factions, 
headed  by  the  seigneurs,  and  there  had  been 
no  ground  for  good  division  for  five  years  till 
De  la  Foret  came. 

Short  of  actual  battle,  this  new  strife  was 
the  keenest  ever  known,  for  Sir  Hugh  Paw- 
lett  was  ranged  on  the  side  of  the  Seigneur 
of  Rozel.  Kinsman  of  the  Comtesse  de 
Montgomery,  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  own  Prot- 
estant religion,  and  admiring  De  la  Foret, 
he  had  given  every  countenance  to  the  Cami- 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

sard  refugee.  He  had  even  besought  the 
royal  court  of  Jersey  to  grant  a  pardon  to 
Buonespoir  the  pirate,  on  condition  that  he 
should  never  commit  a  depredation  upon  an 
inhabitant  of  the  island — this  he  was  to  swear 
to  by  the  little  finger  of  St.  Peter.  Should 
he  break  his  word  he  was  to  be  banished  the 
island  for  ten  years,  under  penalty  of  death 
if  he  returned.  When  the  hour  had  come 
for  Buonespoir  to  take  the  oath  he  failed  to 
appear,  and  the  next  morning  the  Seigneur 
of  St.  Ouen's  discovered  that  during  the 
night  his  cellar  had  been  raided  of  two  kegs 
of  canary,  many  flagons  of  muscadella,  pots 
of  anchovies  and  boxes  of  candied  "eringo," 
kept  solely  for  the  visit  which  the  Queen 
had  promised  the  island.  There  was  no 
doubt  of  the  misdemeanant,  for  Buones- 
poir returned  to  De  Carteret  from  St.  Brieuc 
the  gabardine  of  one  of  his  retainers,  in  which 
he  had  carried  off  the  stolen  delicacies. 

This    aggravated    the   feud   between    the 

partisans  of  St.  Ouen's  and  Rozel,  for  Lem- 

priere  of  Rozel  had  laughed  loudly  when  he 

heard  of  the  robbery,  and  said:  "'Tis  like. 

42 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

St.  Ouen's  to  hoard  for  a  queen  and  glut  a 
pirate.  We  feed  as  we  get  at  Rozel,  and  will 
feed  the  court  well,  too,  when  it  conies,  or 
I'm  no  butler  to  Elizabeth!" 

But  trouble  was  at  hand  for  Michel  and 
for  his  protector.  The  spies  of  Catherine  de 
Medici,  mother  of  the  King  of  France,  were 
everywhere.  These  had  sent  word  that  De 
la  For^t  was  now  attached  to  the  meagre 
suite  of  the  widow  of  the  great  Camisard 
Montgomery,  near  the  Castle  of  Mont  Or- 
gueil.  The  Medici,  having  treacherously 
slain  the  chief,  became  mad  with  desire  to 
slay  the  lieutenant.  She  was  set  to  have  the 
man,  either  through  diplomacy  with  Eng- 
land, or  to  end  him  by  assassination  through 
lier  spies.  Having  determined  upon  his 
death,  with  relentless  soul  she  pursued  the 
cause  as  closely  as  though  this  exiled  soldier 
were  a  powerful  enemy  at  the  head  of  an 
army  in  France. 

Thus  it  was  that  she  wrote  to  Queen  Eliz- 
abeth, asking  that "  this  arrant  foe  of  France, 
this  churl,  conspirator,  and  reviler  of  the 
sacraments,  be  rendered  unto  our  hands  for 

43 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

well-deserved  punishment  as  warning  to  all 
such  evil-doers."  She  told  Elizabeth  of  De 
la  Foret's  arrival  in  Jersey,  disguised  as  a 
priest  of  the  Church  of  France,  and  set  forth 
his  doings  since  landing  with  the  Seigneur  of 
Rozel.  Further  she  went  on  to  say  to  "our 
sister  of  England"  that  "these  dark  figures 
of  murder  and  revolt  be  a  peril  to  the  soft 
peace  of  this  good  realm." 

To  this  Elizabeth,  who  had  no  knowledge 
of  Michel,  who  desired  peace  with  France  at 
this  time,  who  had  favors  to  ask  of  Catherine, 
and  who  in  her  own  realm  had  fresh  reason 
to  fear  conspiracy  through  the  Queen  of  the 
Scots  and  others,  replied  forthwith  that,  "If 
this  De  la  Foret  falleth  into  our  hands,  and 
if  it  were  found  he  had  in  truth  conspired 
against  France  its  throne,  had  he  a  million 
lives,  not  one  should  remain."  Having  de- 
spatched this  letter,  she  straightway  sent  a 
messenger  to  Sir  Hugh  Pawlett  in  Jersey, 
making  quest  of  De  la  Fore"t,  and  command- 
ing that  he  should  be  sent  to  her  in  England 
at  once. 

When  the  Queen's  messenger  arrived  at 
44 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Orgueil  Castle,  Lempriere  chanced  to  be  with 
Sir  Hugh  Pawlett,  and  the  contents  of  Eliza- 
beth's letter  were  made  known  to  him. 

At  the  moment  Monsieur  of  Rozel  was 
munching  macaroons  and  washing  them 
down  with  canary.  The  governor's  an- 
nouncement  was  such  a  shock  that  he  choked 
and  coughed,  the  crumbs  flying  in  all  direc- 
tions, and  another  pint  of  canary  must  be 
taken  to  flush  his  throat.  Thus  cleared  for 
action,  he  struck  out. 

"'Tis  St.  Ouen's  work,"  he  growled. 

"  Tis  thework  of  the  Medici,"  said  Sir  Hugh. 
"  Read,"  he  added,  holding  out  the  paper. 

Now  Lempriere  of  Rozel  had  a  poor  eye 
for  reading.  He  had  wit  enough  to  wind 
about  the  difficulty. 

"If  I  see  not  the  Queen's  commands,  I've 
no  warrant  but  Sir  Hugh  Pawlett' s  words, 
and  I'll  to  London  and  ask  'fore  her  Majesty's 
face  if  she  wrote  them,  and  why.  I'll  tell  my 
tale  and  speak  my  mind,  I  pledge  you,  sir." 

"You'll  offend  her  Majesty.  Her  com- 
mands are  here."  Pawlett  tapped  the  let- 
ter with  his  finger. 

45 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  I'm  butler  to  the  Queen,  and  she  will  list 
to  me.  I'll  not  smirk  and  caper  like  St. 
Ouen's;  I'll  bear  me  like  a  man  not  speaking 
for  himself.  I'll  speak  as  Harry  her  father 
spoke — straight  to  the  purpose.  .  .  .  No, 
no,  no,  I'm  not  to  be  wheedled,  even  by  a 
Pawlett,  and  you  shall  not  ask  me.  If  you 
want  Michel  de  la  Foret,  come  and  take 
him.  He  is  in  my  house.  But  ye  must  take 
him,  for  come  he  shall  not!" 

"  You  will  not  oppose  the  Queen's  officers  ?" 

"  De  la  Foret  is  under  my  roof.  He  must 
be  taken.  I  will  give  him  up  to  no  one ;  and 
I'll  tell  my  sovereign  these  things  when  I 
see  her  in  her  palace." 

"I  misdoubt  you'll  play  the  bear,"  said 
Pawlett,  with  a  dry  smile. 

"The  Queen's  tongue  is  none  so  tame. 
I'll  travel  by  my  star,  get  sweet  or  sour." 

"Well,  well,  'give  a  man  luck,  and  throw 
him  into  the  sea,'  is  the  old  proverb.  I'm 
coming  for  your  friend  to-night." 

"I'll  be  waiting  with  my  fingers  on  the 
door,  sir,"  said  Rozel,  with    a  grim  vanity 
and  an  outrageous  pride  in  himself. 
46 


HE  Seigneur  of  Rozel  found 
De  la  Foret  at  the  house 
of  M.  Aubert.  His  face  was 
flushed  with  hard  riding, 
and  perhaps  the  loving  at- 
titude of  Michel  and  An- 
gele deepened  it,  for  at  the  garden  gate  the 
lovers  were  saying  adieu. 

"You  have  come  for  Monsieur  de  la  Fo- 
ret?" asked  Angele,  anxiously.  Her  quick 
look  at  the  seigneur's  face  had  told  her  there 
were  things  amiss. 

"There's  commands  from  the  Queen. 
They're  for  the  ears  of  De  la  Foret,"  said  the 
seigneur. 

"I  will  hear  them,  too,"  said  Angele,  her 
color  going,  her  bearing  determined. 

The  seigneur  looked  down  at  her  with 
boyish  appreciation,  then  said  to  De  la  Foret; 

47 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"Two  queens  make  claim  for  you.  The 
wolfish  Catherine  writes  to  England  for  her 
lost  Camisard,  with  much  fool's  talk  about 
'dark  figures/  and  'conspirators,'  'churls,' 
and  foes  of 'soft  peace,'  and  England  takes 
the  bait  and  sends  to  Sir  Hugh  Pawlett 
yonder.  And,  in  brief,  monsieur,  the  gov- 
ernor is  to  have  you  under  arrest  and  send 
you  to  England.  God  knows  why  two 
queens  make  such  a  pother  over  a  fellow 
with  naught  but  a  sword  and  a  lass  to  love 
him — though,  come  to  think,  'a  man's  a 
man  if  he  have  but  a  hose  on  his  head,'  as 
the  proverb  runs." 

De  la  Foret  smiled,  then  looked  grave  as 
he  caught  sight  of  Angele's  face.  "'Tis  ar- 
rest, then?"  he  asked. 

'"Tis  come  willy-nilly,"  answered  the  sei- 
gneur. "And  once  they've  forced  you  from 
my  doors,  I'm  for  England  to  speak  my 
mind  to  the  Queen.  I  can  make  interest 
for  her  presence — I  hold  court  office!"  he 
added,  with  puffing  confidence. 

Angele  looked  up  at  him  with  quick  tears, 
yet  with  a  smile  on  her  lips. 
48 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"You  are  going  to  England  for  Michel's 
sake?"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  For  Michel,  or  for  you,  or  for  mine  honor, 
— what  matter,  so  that  I  go?"  he  answered, 
then  added,  "There  must  be  haste  to  Rozel, 
friend,  lest  the  governor  take  Lempriere's 
guest  like  a  potato-digger  in  the  fields." 

Putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  cantered 
heavily  away,  not  forgetting  to  wave  a  pom- 
pous farewell  to  Angele. 

De  la  Foret  was  smiling  as  he  turned  to 
Angele.  She  looked  wonderingly  at  him,  for 
she  had  felt  that  she  must  comfort  him,  and 
she  looked  not  for  this  sudden  change  in  his 
manner. 

"Is  prison-going  so  blithe,  then?"  she 
asked,  with  a  little  uneasy  laugh  which  was 
half  a  sob. 

"It  will  bring  things  to  a  head,"  he  an- 
swered. "After  danger  and  busy  days,  to 
be  merely  safe,  it  is  scarce  the  life  for  Michel 
de  la  Foret.  I  have  my  duty  to  the  com- 
tesse ;  I  have  my  love  for  you ;  but  I  seem  of 
little  use  by  contrast  with  my  past.  And 
yet,  and  yet,"  he  added,  half  sadly,  "how 
49 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

futile  has  been  all  our  fighting,  so  far  as  hu- 
man eye  can  see!" 

"Nothing  is  futile  that  is  right,  Michel," 
the  girl  replied.  "Thou  hast  done  as  thy 
soul  answered  to  God's  messages:  thou  hast 
fought  when  thou  couldst,  and  thou  hast 
sheathed  thy  blade  when  there  was  naught 
else  to  do.  Are  not  both  right  ?" 

He  clasped  her  to  his  breast,  then,  holding 
her  from  him  a  little,  looked  into  her  eyes 
steadily  a  moment. 

"God  hath  given  thee  a  true  heart,  and 
the  true  heart  hath  wisdom,"  he  answered. 

"You  will  not  seek  escape?  Nor  resist 
the  governor?"  she  asked,  eagerly. 

"Whither  should  I  go?  My  place  is  here 
by  you,  by  the  Comtesse  de  Montgomery. 
One  day  it  may  be  I  shall  return  to  France 
and  to  our  cause— 

"If  it  be  God's  will." 

"  If  it  be  God's  will." 

"Whatever  comes,  you  will  love  me, 
Michel?" 

"  I  will  love  you  whatever  comes." 

"Listen."     She  drew  his  head  down.     "I 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

am  no  drag-weight  to  thy  life  ?  Thou  wouldst 
not  do  otherwise  if  there  were  no  foolish 
Angdle?" 

He  did  not  hesitate.  "What  is  best  is. 
I  might  do  otherwise  if  there  were  no  Angele 
in  my  life  to  pilot  my  heart,  but  that  were 
worse  for  me." 

"  Thou  art  the  best  lover  in  all  the  world." 

"I  hope  to  make  a  better  husband.  To- 
morrow is  carmine-lettered  in  my  calendar, 
if  thou  sayest  thou  wilt  still  have  me  under 
the  sword  of  the  Medici." 

Her  hand  pressed  her  heart  suddenly. 
"Under  the  sword,  if  it  be  God's  will,"  she 
answered.  Then,  with  a  faint  smile,  "But 
no,  I  will  not  believe  the  Queen  of  England 
will  send  thee,  one  of  her  own  Protestant 
faith,  to  the  Medici." 

"And  thou  wilt  marry  me?" 

"When  the  Queen  of  England  approves 
thee,"  she  answered,  and  buried  her  face  in 
the  hollow  of  his  arm. 

An  hour  later  Sir  Hugh  Pawlett  came  to 
the  manor-house  of  Rozel  with  twoscore 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

men-at-arms.  The  seigneur  himself  an- 
swered the  governor's  knocking,  and  showed 
himself  in  the  doorway  with  a  dozen  hal- 
berdiers behind  him. 

"  I  have  come  seeking  Michel  de  la  Fore"t," 
said  the  governor. 

"He  is  my  guest." 

"I  have  the  Queen's  command  to  take 
him." 

"He  is  my  cherished  guest." 

"Must  I  force  my  way?" 

"  Is  it  the  Queen's  will  that  blood  be  shed  ?" 

"  The  Queen's  commands  must  be  obeyed." 

"  The  Queen  is  a  miracle  of  the  world,  God 
save  her !  What  is  the  charge  against  him  ?" 

"Summon  Michel  de  la  Foret,  'gainst 
whom  it  lies." 

"He  is  my  guest;  ye  shall  have  him  only 
by  force." 

The  governor  turned  to  his  men.  "Force 
the  passage  and  search  the  house,"  he  com- 
manded. 

The  company  advanced  with  levelled  pikes, 
but  at  a  motion  from  the  seigneur  his  men 
fell  back  before  them,  and,  making  a  lane, 
52 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

disclosed  Michel  de  la  Foret  at  the  end  of  it. 
Michel  had  not  approved  of  Lempriere's 
mummery  of  defence,  but  he  understood  from 
what  good  spirit  it  sprang,  and  how  it  flat- 
tered the  seigneur's  vanity  to  make  show  of 
resistance. 

The  governor  greeted  De  la  Foret  with  a 
sour  smile,  read  to  him  the  Queen's  writ,  and 
politely  begged  his  company  towards  Mont 
Orgueil  Castle. 

"  I'll  fetch  other  commands  from  her  Maj- 
esty, or  write  me  down  a  peddler  of  St.  Ouen's 
follies,"  the  seigneur  said  from  his  doorway, 
as  the  governor  and  De  la  Foret  bade  him 
good-bye  and  took  the  road  to  the  castle. 


VI 


ICHEL   DE    LA    FORET 

was  gone,  a  prisoner.  From 
the  dusk  of  the  trees  by 
the  little  chapel  of  Rozel> 
Angele  had  watched  his 
exit  in  charge  of  the  gov- 
ernor's men.  She  had  not  sought  to  show 
her  presence;  she  had  seen  him — that  was 
comfort  to  her  heart ;  and  she  would  not  mar 
the  memory  of  that  last  night's  farewell  by 
another  before  these  strangers.  She  saw 
with  what  quiet  Michel  bore  his  arrest,  and 
she  said  to  herself,  as  the  last  halberdier 
vanished : 

"If  the  Queen  do  but  speak  with  him,  if 
she  but  look  upon  his  face  and  hear  his  voice, 
she  must  needs  deal  kindly  by  him.  My 
Michel — ah,  it  is  a  face  for  all  men  to  trust 
and  all  women — " 

54 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

But  she  sighed  and  averted  her  head  as 
though  before  prying  eyes. 

The  bell  of  Rozel  chapel  broke  gently  on 
the  evening  air;  the  sound,  softened  by  the 
leaves  and  mellowed  by  the  wood  of  the 
great  elm-trees,  billowed  away  till  it  was  lost 
in  faint  reverberation  in  the  sea  beneath  the 
cliffs  of  the  Couperon,  where  a  little  craft 
was  coming  to  anchor  in  the  dead  water. 

At  first  the  sound  of  the  bell  soothed  her, 
softening  the  thought  of  the  danger  to  Michel. 
She  moved  with  it  towards  the  sea,  the  tones 
of  her  grief  chiming  with  it.  Presently,  as 
she  went,  a  priest  in  cassock  and  robes  and 
stole  crossed  the  path  in  front  of  her,  an 
acolyte  before  him  swinging  a  censer,  his 
voice  chanting  Latin  verses  from  the  service 
for  the  sick,  in  his  hands  the  sacred  elements 
of  the  communion  for  the  dying.  The  priest 
was  fat  and  heavy,  his  voice  was  lazy,  his 
eyes  expressionless,  and  his  robes  were  dirty. 
The  plaintive,  peaceful  sense  which  the  sound 
of  the  vesper-bell  had  thrown  over  Angele's 
sad  reflections  passed  away,  and  the  thought 
smote  her  that,  were  it  not  for  such  as  this 

55 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

black-toothed  priest,  Michel  would  not  now 
be  on  his  way  to  England,  a  prisoner.  To 
her  this  vesper-bell  was  the  symbol  of  tyranny 
and  hate.  It  was  fighting,  it  was  martyr- 
dom, it  was  exile,  it  was  the  Medici.  All 
that  she  had  borne,  all  that  her  father  had 
borne,  the  thought  of  the  home  lost,  the 
mother  dead  before  her  time,  the  name 
ruined,  the  heritage  dispossessed,  the  red 
war  of  the  Camisards,  the  rivulets  of  blood 
in  the  streets  of  Paris  and  of  her  loved 
Rouen,  smote  upon  her  mind  and  drove  her 
to  her  knees  in  the  forest  glade,  her  hands 
upon  her  ears  to  shut  out  the  sound  of  the 
bell.  It  came  upon  her  that  the  bell  had 
said  "Peace!  Peace!"  to  her  mind  when 
there  should  be  no  peace;  that  it  had  said 
"Be  patient!"  when  she  should  be  up  and 
doing;  that  it  had  whispered  "Stay!"  when 
she  should  tread  the  path  her  lover  trod, 
her  feet  following  in  his  footsteps  as  his  feet 
had  trod  in  hers. 

She  pressed  her  hands  tight  upon  her  ears 
and  prayed  with  a  passion  and  a  fervor  she 
had  never  known  before .    A  revelation  seem- 
56 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

ed  to  come  upon  her,  and,  for  the  first  time, 
she  was  a  Huguenot  to  the  core.  Hitherto 
she  had  suffered  for  her  religion  because  it 
was  her  mother's  broken  life,  her  father's 
faith,  and  because  they  had  suffered  and 
her  lover  had  suffered.  Her  mind  had  been 
convinced,  her  loyalty  had  been  unwaver- 
ing, her  words  for  the  great  cause  had  meas- 
ured well  with  her  deeds.  But  new  senses 
were  suddenly  born  in  her,  new  eyes  were 
given  to  her  mind,  new  powers  for  endurance 
to  her  soul.  She  saw  now  as  the  martyrs 
of  Meaux  had  seen;  a  passionate  faith  de- 
scended on  her  as  it  had  descended  on  them ; 
no  longer  only  patient,  she  was  fain  for  ac- 
tion. Tears  rained  from  her  eyes.  Her 
heart  burst  itself  in  entreaty  and  confession. 
"  Thy  light  shall  be  my  light,  and  Thy  will 
my  will,  O  Lord,"  she  cried  at  the  last. 
"Teach  me  Thy  way,  create  a  right  spirit 
within  me.  Give  me  boldness  without  rash- 
ness, and  hope  without  vain  thinking.  Bear 
up  my  arms,  O  Lord,  and  save  me  when  fall- 
ing. A  poor  Samaritan  am  I.  Give  me  the 
water  that  shall  be  a  well  of  water  springing 

57 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

up  to  everlasting  life,  that  I  thirst  not  in  the 
fever  of  doing.  Give  me  the  manna  of  life 
to  eat  that  I  faint  not  nor  cry  out  in  plague, 
pestilence,  or  famine.  Give  me  Thy  grace, 
O  God,  as  Thou  has  given  it  to  Michel  de  la 
Foret,  and  guide  my  feet  as  I  follow  him  in 
life  and  in  death,  for  Christ's  sake.  Amen." 

As  she  rose  from  her  knees  she  heard  the 
evening  gun  from  the  Castle  of  Mont  Or- 
gueil,  whither  Michel  was  being  borne  by 
the  Queen's  men.  The  vesper-bell  had  stop- 
ped. Through  the  wood  came  the  salt  savor 
of  the  sea  on  the  cool  sunset  air.  She  threw 
back  her  head  and  walked  swiftly  towards 
it,  her  heart  beating  hard,  her  eyes  shining 
with  the  light  of  purpose,  her  step  elastic 
with  the  vigor  of  youth  and  health.  A 
quarter-hour's  walking  brought  her  to  the 
cliff  of  the  Couperon. 

As  she  gazed  out  over  the  sea,  however,  a 
voice  in  the  bay  below  caught  her  ear.  She 
looked  down.  On  the  deck  of  the  little  craft 
which  had  entered  the  harbor  when  the  ves- 
per-bell was  ringing  stood  a  man  who  waved 
a  hand  up  towards  her,  then  gave  a  peculiar 

58 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

call.  She  stared  with  amazement:  it  was 
Buonespoir  the  pirate.  What  did  this 
mean?  Had  God  sent  this  man  to  her,  by 
his  presence  to  suggest  what  she  should  do 
in  this  crisis  in  her  life?  For  even  as  she 
ran  down  the  shore  towards  him,  it  came  to 
her  mind  that  Buonespoir  should  take  her 
in  his  craft  to  England. 

What  to  do  in  England  ?  Who  could  tell  ? 
She  only  knew  that  a  voice  called  her  to 
England  to  follow  the  footsteps  of  Michel 
de  la  Fore"t,  who  even  this  night  would  be 
setting  forth  in  the  governor's  brigantine 
for  London. 

Buonespoir  met  her  upon  the  shore,  grin- 
ning like  a  boy. 

"God  save  you,  lady!"  he  said. 

"What  brings  you  hither,  friend?"  she 
asked. 

If  he  had  said  that  a  voice  had  called  him 
hither  as  one  called  her  to  England,  it  had 
not  sounded  strange ;  for  she  was  not  think- 
ing that  this  was  one  who  superstitiously 
swore  by  the  little  finger  of  St.  Peter,  but 
only  that  he  was  the  man  who  had  brought 

59 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

her  Michel  from  France,  who  had  been  a 
faithful  friend  to  her  and  to  her  father. 

"What  brings  me  hither?"  Buonespoir 
laughed  low  in  his  chest.  "Even  to  fetch 
to  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel,  a  friend  of  mine  by 
every  token  of  remembrance,  a  dozen  flag- 
ons of  golden  muscadella." 

To  Angele  no  suggestion  flashed  that  these 
flagons  of  muscadella  had  come  from  the 
cellar  of  the  Seigneur  of  St.  Ouen's,  where 
they  had  been  reserved  for  a  certain  royal 
visit.  Nothing  was  in  her  mind  save  the 
one  thought — that  she  must  follow  Michel. 

"  Will  you  take  me  to  England  ?"  she  asked, 
putting  a  hand  quickly  on  his  arm. 

He  had  been  laughing  hard,  picturing  to 
himself  what  Lempriere  of  Rozel  would  say 
when  he  sniffed  the  flagon  of  St.  Ouen's  best 
wine,  and  for  an  instant  he  did  not  take  in 
the  question ;  but  he  stared  at  her  now  as  the 
laugh  slowly  subsided  through  notes  of  ab- 
straction, and  her  words  worked  their  way 
into  his  brain. 

"Will  you  take  me,  Buonespoir?"  she 
urged. 

60 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

,- 

"Take  you — ?"  he  questioned. 

"To  England." 

"And  myself  to  Tyburn?" 

"  Nay,  to  the  Queen." 

"Tis  the  same  thing.  Head  of  Abel! 
Elizabeth  hath  heard  of  me.  The  Seigneur 
of  St.  Ouen's  and  others  have  writ  me  down 
a  pirate  to  her.  She  would  not  pardon  the 
muscadella,"  he  added,  with  another  laugh, 
looking  down  where  the  flagons  lay. 

"She  must  pardon  more  than  that,"  ex- 
claimed Angele,  and  hastily  she  told  him  of 
what  had  happened  to  Michel  de  la  Foret 
and  why  she  would  go. 

"Thy  father,  then?"  he  asked,  scowling 
hard  in  his  attempt  to  think  it  out. 

"He  must  go  with  me — I  will  seek  him 
now." 

"  It  must  be  at  once,  i'  faith,  for  how  long, 
think  you,  can  I  stay  here  unharmed?  I 
was  sighted  off  St.  Ouen's  shore  a  few  hours 
agone." 

"To-night?"  she  asked. 

"By  twelve,  when  we  shall  have  the  moon 
and  the  tide,"  he  answered.  "But  hold!" 
61 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

he  hastily  added.  "What,  think  you,  could 
you  and  your  father  do  alone  in  England? 
And  with  me  it  were  worse  than  alone.  These 
be  dark  times,  when  strangers  have  spies  at 
their  heels  and  all  travellers  be  suspect." 

"We  will  trust  in  God,"  she  answered. 

"Have  you  money?"  he  questioned — "for 
London,  not  for  me,"  he  added,  hastily. 

"Enough,"  she  replied. 

"The  trust  with  the  money  is  a  weighty 
matter,"  he  added;  "but  they  suffice  not. 
You  must  have  'fending." 

"There  is  no  one,"  she  answered,  sadly, 
"no  one  save— 

"Save  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel!"  Buones- 
poir  finished  the  sentence.  "Good.  You 
to  your  father  and  I  to  the  seigneur.  If 
you  can  fetch  your  father  by  your  pot-of- 
honey  tongue,  I'll  fetch  the  great  Lempriere 
with  muscadella.  Is't  a  bargain?" 

"In  which  I  gain  all,"  she  answered,  and 
again  touched  his  arm  with  her  finger-tips. 

"You  shall  be  aboard  here  at  ten,  and  I 
will  join  you  on  the  stroke  of  twelve,"  he 
said,  and  gave  a  low  whistle. 
62 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

At  the  signal  three  men  sprang  up  like 
magic  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  boat  beneath 
them,  and  scurried  over  the  side;  three  as 
ripe  knaves  as  ever  cheated  stocks  and  gal- 
lows, but  simple  knaves,  unlike  their  master. 
Two  of  them  had  served  with  Francis  Drake 
in  that  good  ship  of  his  lying  even  now  not 
far  from  Elizabeth's  palace  at  Greenwich. 
The  third  was  a  rogue  who  had  been  banish- 
ed from  Jersey  for  an  habitual  drunkenness 
which  only  attacked  him  on  land — at  sea  he 
was  sacredly  sober.  His  name  was  Jean 
Nicolle.  The  names  of  the  other  two  were 
Herv6  Robin  and  Rouge  le  Riche,  but  their 
master  called  them  by  other  names. 

"Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego,"  said 
Buonespoir,  in  ceremony,  and  waved  a  hand 
of  homage  between  them  and  Angele.  ' '  Kiss 
dirt,  and  know  where  duty  lies.  The  lady's 
word  on  my  ship  is  law  till  we  anchor  at  the 
Queen's  Stairs  at  Greenwich.  So,  Heaven 
help  you,  Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abed- 
nego!" said  Buonespoir. 

A  wave  of  humor  passed  over  Angele's 
grave  face,  for  a  stranger  quartet  never 

63 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

sailed  high  seas  together:  one  blind  of  an 
eye,  one  game  of  a  leg,  one  bald  as  a  bottle 
and  bereft  of  two  front  teeth;  but  Buones- 
poir  was  sound  of  wind  and  limb,  his  small 
face  with  the  big  eyes  lost  in  the  masses  of 
his  red  hair,  and  a  body  like  Hercules.  It 
flashed  through  Angele's  mind  even  as  she 
answered  the  gurgling  salutations  of  the 
triumvirate  that  they  had  been  got  together 
for  no  gentle  summer  sailing  in  the  Channel. 
Her  conscience  smote  her  that  she  should 
use  such  churls ;  but  she  gave  it  comfort  by 
the  thought  that  while  serving  her  they 
could  do  naught  worse;  and  her  cause  was 
good.  Yet  they  presented  so  bizarre  an  as- 
pect, their  ugliness  was  so  varied  and  par- 
ticular, that  she  almost  laughed.  Buones- 
poir  understood  her  thoughts,  for  with  a 
look  of  mocking  innocence  in  his  great  blue 
eyes  he  waved  a  hand  again  towards  the 
graceless  trio,  and  said,  "For  deep-sea  fish- 
ing," then  solemnly  winked  at  the  three. 

A  moment  later  Angele  was  speeding  along 
the  shore  towards  her  home  on  the  farther 
64 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

hill-side  up  the  little  glen;  and  within  an 
hour  Buonespoir  rolled  from  the  dusk  of  the 
trees  by  the  manor-house  of  Rozel  and 
knocked  at  the  door.  He  carried  on  his 
head,  as  a  fishwife  carries  a  tray  of  ormers, 
a  basket  full  of  flagons  of  muscadella;  and 
he  did  not  lower  the  basket  when  he  was 
shown  into  the  room  where  the  Seigneur  of 
Rozel  was  sitting  before  a  trencher  of  spiced 
veal  and  a  great  pot  of  ale.  Lempriere 
roared  a  hearty  greeting  to  the  pirate,  for  he 
was  in  a  sour  humor  because  of  the  taking- 
off  of  Michel  de  la  Foret;  and  of  all  men 
this  pirate-fellow,  who  had  quips  and  cranks, 
and  had  played  tricks  on  his  cousin  of  St. 
Ouen's,  was  most  welcome. 

"What's  that  on  your  teacup  of  a  head?" 
he  roared  again,  as  Buonespoir  grinned  pleas- 
ure at  the  greeting. 

"Muscadella,"  said  Buonespoir,  and  low- 
ered the  basket  to  the  table. 

Lempriere  seized  a  flagon,  drew  it  forth, 
looked  closely  at  it,  then  burst  into  laughter, 
and  spluttered,  "St.  Ouen's  muscadella,  by 
the  hand  of  Rufus!" 

6S 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Seizing  Buonespoir  by  the  shoulders,  he 
forced  him  down  upon  a  bench  at  the  table, 
and  pushed  the  trencher  of  spiced  meat 
against  his  chest.  "Eat,  my  noble  lord  of 
the  sea  and  master  of  the  cellar!"  he  gurgled 
out,  and,  tipping  the  flagon  of  muscadella, 
took  a  long  draught.  "God-a-mercy — but 
it  has  saved  my  life,"  he  gasped  in  satis- 
faction as  he  lay  back  in  his  great  chair  and 
put  his  feet  on  the  bench  whereon  Buones- 
poir sat. 

They  raised  their  flagons  and  toasted  each 
other,  and  Lempriere  burst  forth  into  song, 
in  the  refrain  of  which  Buonespoir  joined 
boisterously : 

"King  Rufus  he  did  hunt  the  deer, 

With  a  hey  ho,  come  and  kiss  me,  Dolly! 
It  was  the  spring-time  of  the  year, 

Hey  ho,  Dolly  shut  her  eyes! 
King  Rufus  was  a  bully  boy, 
He  hunted  all  the  day  for  joy, 
Sweet  Dolly  she  was  ever  coy: 

And  who  would  e'er  be  wise 

That  looked  in  Dolly's  eyes? 

"King  Rufus  he  did  have  his  day, 

With  a  hey  ho,  come  and  kiss  me,  Dolly! 

66 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

So  get  ye  forth  where  dun  deer  play — 

Hey  ho,  Dolly  comes  again! 
The  greenwood  is  the  place  for  me, 
For  that  is  where  the  dun  deer  be, 
'Tis  where  my  Dolly  comes  to  me: 
And  who  would  stay  at  home, 
That  might  with  Dolly  roam? 
Sing  hey  ho,  come  and  kiss  me,  Dolly!" 

Lempriere,  perspiring  with  the  exertion, 
mopped  his  forehead,  then  lapsed  into  a 
plaintive  mood. 

"I've  had  naught  but  trouble  of  late,"  he 
wheezed.  "Trouble!  trouble!  trouble!  like 
gnats  on  a  filly's  flank!"  and  in  spluttering 
words,  twice  bracketed  in  muscadella,  he 
told  of  Michel  de  la  Foret's  arrest,  and  of  his 
purpose  to  go  to  England  if  he  could  get  a 
boat  to  take  him. 

"  'Tis  that  same  business  brings  me  here," 
said  Buonespoir,  and  forthwith  told  of  his 
meeting  with  Angele  and  what  was  then 
agreed  upon. 

"You  to  go  to  England!"  cried  Lem- 
priere, amazed.  "They  want  you  for  Ty- 
burn there." 

"They  want  me  for  the  gallows  here," 
67 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

said  Buonespoir.  Rolling  a  piece  of  spiced 
meat  in  his  hand,  he  stuffed  it  into  his 
mouth  and  chewed  till  the  grease  came  out 
of  his  eyes,  and  took  eagerly  from  a  servant 
a  flagon  of  malmsey  and  a  dish  of  ormers. 

"Hush!  chew  thy  tongue  a  minute,"  said 
the  seigneur,  suddenly  starting  and  laying 
a  finger  beside  his  nose.  "Hush!"  he  said, 
again,  and  looked  into  the  flicker  of  the 
candle  by  him  with  half -shut  eyes. 

"May  I  have  no  rushes  for  a  bed,  and 
die  like  a  rat  in  a  moat,  if  I  don't  get  thy 
pardon,  too,  of  the  Queen,  and  bring  thee  back 
to  Jersey,  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  De  Carteret 
forever!  He'll  look  upon  thee  assoilzied  by 
the  Queen,  spitting  fire  in  his  rage,  and  no 
canary  or  muscadella  in  his  cellar." 

It  came  not  to  the  mind  of  either  that  this 
expedition  would  be  made  at  cost  to  them- 
selves. They  had  not  heard  of  Don  Quixote, 
and  their  gifts  were  not  imitative.  They 
were  of  a  day  when. men  held  their  lives  as 
lightly  as  many  men  hold  their  honor  now, 
when  championship  was  as  the  breath  of 
life  to  men's  nostrils,  and  to  adventure  for 
68 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

what  was  worth  having  or  doing  in  life  the 
only  road  of  reputation. 

Buonespoir  was  as  much  a  champion  in 
his  ways  as  Lempriere  of  Rozel.  They  were 
of  like  kidney,  though  so  far  apart  in  rank. 
Had  Lempriere  been  born  as  low  and  as  poor 
as  Buonespoir,  he  would  have  been  a  pirate, 
too,  no  doubt ;  and  had  Buonespoir  been  born 
as  high  as  the  seigneur,  he  would  have  car- 
ried himself  with  the  same  rough  sense  of 
honor,  with  as  ripe  a  vanity,  have  been  as 
naive,  as  sincere,  as  true  to  the  real  heart  of 
man  untaught  in  the  dissimulation  of  mod- 
esty or  reserve.  When  they  shook  hands 
across  the  trencher  of  spiced  veal,  it  was  as 
man  shakes  hand  with  man,  not  man  with 
master. 

They  were  about  to  start  upon  their  jour- 
ney when  there  came  a  knocking  at  the  door. 
On  its  being  opened  the  bald  and  toothless 
Abednego  stumbled  in  with  the  word  that 
immediately  after  Angele  and  her  father 
came  aboard  the  Honey-flower  some  fifty  hal- 
berdiers suddenly  appeared  upon  the  Cou- 
peron.  They  had  at  once  set  sail,  and  got 

6  69 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

away  even  before  the  sailors  had  reached  the 
shore.  As  they  had  rounded  the  point,  where 
they  were  hid  from  view,  Abednego  dropped 
oyerboard  and  swam  ashore  on  the  rising 
tide,  making  his  way  to  the  manor  to  warn 
Buonespoir..  On  his  way  hither,  stealing 
through  the  trees,  he  had  passed  a  half- 
score  of  halberdiers  making  for  the  manor, 
and  he  had  seen  others  going  towards  the 
shore. 

Buonespoir  looked  to  the  priming  of  his 
pistols,  and,  buckling  his  belt  tightly  about 
him,  turned  to  the  seigneur  and  said:  "I 
will  take  my  chances  with  Abednego.  Where 
does  she  lie — the  Honey-flower,  Abednego?" 

"Off  the  point  called  Verclut,' '^answered 
the  little  man,  who  had  travelled  with 
Francis  Drake. 

"Good;  we  will  make  a  run  for  it,  flying 
dot-and-carry-one  as  we  go." 

While  they  had  been  speaking  the  sei- 
gneur had  been  thinking;  and  now,  even  as 
several  figures  appeared  at  a  little  distance 
in  the  trees,  making  towards  the  manor,  he 
said,  with  a  loud  laugh: 
70 


BUONESPOIR    LOOKED    TO    THE    PRIMING    OF    HIS    PISTOLS' 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"No.  Tis  the  way  of  a  fool  to  put  liis 
head  between  the  door  and  the  jamb.  'Tis 
but  a  hundred  yards  to  safety.  Follow  me 
— to  the  sea— Abednego  last.  This  way, 
bullies!" 

Without  a  word  all  three  left  the  house 
and  walked  on  in  the  order  indicated,  as  De 
Carteret's  halberdiers  ran  forward  threat- 
ening. 

"Stand!"  shouted  the  sergeant  of  the  hal- 
berdiers. "Stand,  or  we  fire!" 

But  the  three  walked  straight  on -unheed- 
ing. When  the  sergeant  of  the  men-at-arms 
recognized  the  seigneur  he  ordered  down  the 
blunderbusses. 

"We  come  for  Buonespoir  the  pirate,"  said 
the  sergeant. 

"Whose  warrant?"  said  the  seigneur, 
fronting  the  halberdiers,  Buonespoir  and 
Abednego  behind  him. 

"The  Seigneur  of  St.  Ouen's,"  was  the 
reply. 

"My  compliments  to  the  Seigneur  of  St. 
Ouen's,  and  tell  him  that  Buonespoir  is  my 
guest,"  he  bellowed,  and  strode  on,  the  hal- 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

berdiers  following.  Suddenly  the  seigneur 
swerved  towards  the  chapel  and  quickened 
his  footsteps,  the  others  but  a  step  behind. 
The  sergeant  of  the  halberdiers  was  in  a 
quandary.  He  longed  to  shoot,  but  dared 
not,  and  while  he  was  making  up  his  mind 
what  to  do  the  seigneur  had  reached  the 
chapel  door.  Opening  it,  he  quickly  pushed 
Buonespoir  and  Abednego  inside,  whisper- 
ing to  them,  then  slammed  the  door  and  put 
his  back  against  it. 

There  was  another  moment's  hesitation  on 
the  sergeant's  part,  then  a  door  at  the  other 
end  of  the  chapel  was  heard  to  open  and  shut, 
and  the  seigneur  laughed  loudly.  The  hal- 
berdiers ran  round  the  chapel.  There  stood 
Buonespoir  and  Abednego  in  a  narrow  road- 
way, motionless  and  unconcerned.  The  hal- 
berdiers rushed  forward. 

' '  Perquage !  Perquage !  Perquage !' '  shout- 
ed Buonespoir,  and  the  bright  moonlight 
showed  him  grinning. 

For  an  instant  there  was  deadly  stillness, 
in  which  the  approaching  footsteps  of  the 
seigneur  sounded  loud. 
72 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"Perquage!"  Buonespoir  repeated. 

"Perquage!  Fall  back!"  said  the  sei- 
gneur, and  waved  off  the  pikes  of  the  hal- 
berdiers. "He  has  sanctuary  to  the  sea." 

This  narrow  road  in  which  the  pirates  stood 
was  the  last  of  three  in  the  Isle  of  Jersey, 
running  from  churches  to  the  sea,  in  which 
a  criminal  was  safe  from  arrest  by  virtue  of 
an  old  statute.  The  other  perquages  had  been 
taken  away,  but  this  one  of  Rozel  remained, 
a  concession  made  by  Henry  VIII.  to  the 
father  of  this  Raoul  Lempriere.  The  priv- 
ilege had  been  used  but  once  in  the  present 
seigneur's  day,  because  the  criminal  must 
be  put  upon  the  road  from  the  chapel  by  the 
seigneur  himself,  and  he  had  used  his  priv- 
ilege modestly. 

No  man  in  Jersey  but  knew  the  sacredness 
of  this  perquage,  though  it  was  ten  years 
since  it  had  been  used ;  and  no  man,  not  even 
the  governor  himself,  dare  lift  his  hand  to 
one  upon  that  road. 

So  it  was  that  Bupnespoir  and  Abednego, 
two  fugitives  from  justice,  walked  quietly 
to  the  sea  down  the  perquage,  halberdiers, 
73 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

balked  of  their  prey,  prowling  on  their  steps 
and  cursing  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel  for  his  gift 
of  sanctuary — for  the  Seigneur  of  St.  Ouen's 
and  the  royal  court  had  promised  each  hal- 
berdier three  shillings  and  all  the  ale  he  could 
drink  at  a  sitting  if  Buonespoir  was  brought 
in  alive  or  dead. 

In  peace  and  safety  the  three  boarded  the 
Honey-flower  off  the  point  called  Verclut,  and 
set  sail  for  England,  just  seven  hours  after 
Michel  de  la  For£t  had  gone  his  way  upon 
the  Channel,  a  prisoner. 


VII 


FORTNIGHT  later,  of  a 
Sunday  morning,  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  of  England 
was  disturbed  out  of  his 
usual  equanimity.  As  he 
was  treading  the  rushes  in 
the  presence-chamber  of  the  royal  palace 
at  Greenwich,  his  eye  busy  in  inspection — 
for  the  Queen  would  soon  pass  on  her  way  to 
chapel — his  head  nodding  right  and  left  to 
archbishop,  bishop,  councillors  of  state,  cour- 
tiers, and  officers  of  the  crown,  he  heard  a 
rude  noise  at  the  door  leading  into  the  ante- 
chapel,  where  the  Queen  received  petitions 
from  the  people.  Hurrying  thither  in  shock- 
ed anxiety,  he  found  a  curled  gentleman  of 
the  guard,  resplendent  in  red  velvet  and  gold 
chains,  in  peevish  argument  with  a  boister- 
ous seigneur  of  a  bronzed,  good-humored  face, 

75 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

who  urged  his  entrance  to  the  presence- 
chamber. 

The  Lord  Chamberlain  swept  down  upon 
the  pair  like  a  flamingo  with  wings  outspread. 
"  God's  death !  what  means  this  turmoil  ?  Her 
Majesty  comes  hither!"  he  cried,  and  scowled 
upon  the  intruder,  who  now  stepped  back  a 
little,  treading  on  the  toes  of  a  huge  sailor 
with  a  small  head  and  bushy  red  hair  and 
beard. 

"  Because  her  Majesty  comes  I  come  also," 
the  seigneur  interposed,  grandly. 

"What  is  your  name  and  quality?" 

"Yours  first,  and  I  shall  know  how  to  an- 
swer." 

"  I  am  the  Lord  Chamberlain  of  England." 

"And  I,  my  lord,  am  Lempriere,  Seigneur 
of  Rozel — and  butler  to  the  Queen." 

"Where  is  Rozel?"  asked  my  Lord  Cham- 
berlain. 

The  face  of  the  seigneur  suddenly  flushed, 
his  mouth  swelled,  and  then  burst. 

"Where  is  Rozel!"  he  cried,  in  a  voice  of 
rage.  "Where  is  Rozel!  Have  you  heard 
of  Hugh  Pawlett?"  he  asked,  with  a  huge 
76 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

contempt — "of  Governor  Hugh  Pawlett?" 
The  Lord  Chamberlain  nodded.  "Then  ask 
his  Excellency  when  next  you  see  him,  Where 
is  Rozel?  But  take  good  counsel  and  keep 
your  ignorance  from  the  Queen,"  he  added. 
"  She  has  no  love  for  stupids." 

"You  say  you  are  butler  to  the  Queen? 
Whence  came  your  commission?"  said  the 
Lord  Chamberlain,  smiling  now;  for  Lem- 
priere's  words  and  ways  were  of  some  simple 
world  where  odd  folk  lived,  and  his  boyish 
vanity  disarmed  anger. 

"  By  royal  warrant  and  heritage.  And  of 
all  of  the  Jersey  Isle,  I  only  may  have  dove- 
cotes, which  is  the  everlasting  thorn  in  the 
side  of  De  Carteret  of  St.  Ouen's.  Now  will 
you  let  me  in,  my  lord?"  he  said,  all  in  a 
breath. 

At  a  stir  behind  him  the  Lord  Chamber- 
lain turned,  and  with  a  horrified  exclamation 
hurried  away,  for  the  procession  from  the 
Queen's  apartments  had  already  entered  the 
presence-chamber:  gentlemen,  barons,  earls, 
knights  of  the  garter,  in  brave  attire,  with 
bare  heads  and  sumptuous  calves.  The  Lord 
77 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Chamberlain  had  scarce  got  to  his  place  when 
the  Chancellor,  bearing  the  seals  in  a  red  silk 
purse,  entered,  flanked  by  two  gorgeous  folk 
with  the  royal  sceptre  and  the  sword  of  state 
in  a  red  scabbard,  all  flourished  with  fleurs- 
de-lis.  Moving  in  and  out  among  them  all 
was  the  Queen's  fool,  who  jested  and  shook 
his  bells  under  the  noses  of  the  highest. 

It  was  an  event  of  which  the  Seigneur  of 
Rozel  told  to  his  dying  day :  that  he  entered 
the  presence-chamber  of  the  royal  palace  of 
Greenwich  at  the  same  instant  as  the  Queen 
— "  Rozel  at  one  end,  Elizabeth  at  the  other, 
and  all  the  world  at  gaze,"  he  was  wont  to 
say,  with  loud  guffaws.  But  what  he  spoke  of 
afterwards  with  preposterous  ease  and  pride 
was  neither  pride  nor  ease  at  the  moment; 
for  the  Queen's  eyes  fell  on  him  as  he  shoved 
past  the  gentlemen  who  kept  the  door.  For 
an  instant  she  stood  still,  regarding  him  in- 
tently, then  turned  quickly  to  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  in  inquiry,  and  with  a  sharp 
reproof,  too,  in  her  look.  The  Lord  Cham- 
berlain fell  on  his  knee,  and  with  low,  uncer- 
tain voice  explained  the  incident. 

78 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Elizabeth  again  cast  her  eyes  towards  Lem- 
priere,  and  the  court,  following  her  example, 
scrutinized  the  seigneur  in  varied  styles  of 
insolence  or  curiosity.  Lempriere  drew  him- 
self up  with  a  slashing  attempt  at  compos- 
ure, but  ended  by  flaming  "from  head  to  foot, 
his  face  shining  like  a  cock's  comb,  the  per- 
spiration standing  out  like  beads  upon  his 
forehead,  his  eyes  gone  blind  with  confusion. 
That  was  but  for  a  moment,  however,  and 
then,  Elizabeth's  look  being  slowly  with- 
drawn from  him,  a  curious  smile  came  to 
her  lips,  and  she  said  to  the  Lord  Chamber- 
lain, "Let  the  gentleman  remain." 

The  Queen's  fool  tripped  forward  and  tap- 
ped the  Lord  Chamberlain  on  the  shoulder. 
"Let  the  gentleman  remain,  gossip,  and  see 
you  that  remaining  he  goeth  not  like  a  fly 
with  his  feet  in  the  porridge."  With  a  flip- 
pant step  before  the  seigneur,  he  shook  his 
bells  at  him.  "Thou  shalt  stay,  Nuncio, 
and,  staying,  speak  the  truth.  So  doing,  you 
shall  be  as  noted  as  a  comet  with  three  tails. 
You  shall  prove  that  man  was  made  in  God's 
image.  So  lift  thy  head  and  sneeze — sneez- 

79 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

ing  is  the  fashion  here;  but  see  that  thou 
sneeze  not  thy  head  off  as  they  do  in  Tar- 
tary.  'Tis  worth  remembrance." 

Rozel's  self-importance  and  pride  had  re- 
turned. The  blood  came  back  to  his  heart, 
and  he  threw  out  his  chest  grandly ;  he  even 
turned  to  Buonespoir,  whose  great  figure 
might  be  seen  beyond  the  door,  and  winked 
at  him.  For  a  moment  he  had  time  to  note 
the  doings  of  the  Queen  and  her  courtiers 
with  wide-eyed  curiosity.  He  saw  the  Earl 
of  Leicester,  exquisite,  haughty,  gallant,  fall 
upon  his  knee,  and  Elizabeth  slowly  pull  off 
her  glove  and  with  a  none  too  gracious  look 
give  him  her  hand  to  kiss,  the  only  favor  of 
the  kind  granted  that  day.  He  saw  Cecil, 
her  minister,  introduce  a  foreign  noble,  who 
presented  his  letters.  He  heard  the  Queen 
speak  in  a  half-dozen  different  languages,  to 
people  of  various  lands,  and  was  smitten  with 
due  amazement. 

But  as  Elizabeth  came  slowly  down  the 

hall,  her  white  silk  gown  fronted  with  great 

pearls  flashing  back  the  light,  a  marchioness 

bearing  the  train,  the  crown  on  her  head  glit- 

80 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

tering  as  she  turned  from  right  to  left,  her 
wonderful  collar  of  jewels  sparkling  on  her 
uncovered  bosom,  suddenly  the  mantle  of 
black,  silver-shotted  silk  upon  her  shoulders 
became  to  Lempriere's  heated  senses  a  judge's 
robe,  and  Elizabeth  the  august  judge  of  the 
world.  His  eyes  blinded  again,  for  it  was 
as  if  she  were  bearing  down  upon  him.  Cer- 
tainly she  was  looking  at  him  now,  scarce 
heeding  the  courtiers  who  fell  to  their  knees 
on  either  side  as  she  came  on.  The  red 
doublets  of  the  fifty  Gentlemen  Pensioners 
—all  men  of  noble  families  proud  to  do  this 
humble  yet  distinguished  service — with  bat- 
tle-axes, on  either  side  of  her,  seemed  to 
Lempriere  on  the  instant  like  an  army  with 
banners  threatening  him.  From  the  ante- 
chapel  behind  him  came  the  cry  of  the  faith- 
ful subjects  who,  as  the  gentlemen-at-arms 
fell  back  from  the  doorway,  had  but  just 
caught  a  glimpse  of  her  Majesty — "Long 
live  Elizabeth!" 

It  seemed  to  Lempriere  that  the  Gentle- 
men Pensioners  must  beat  him  down  as  they 
passed,  yet  he  stood  riveted  to  the  spot. 
81 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

And,  indeed,  it  was  true  that  he  was  almost 
in  the  path  of  her  Majesty.  He  was  aware 
that  two  gentlemen  touched  him  on  the 
shoulder  and  bade  him  retire ;  but  the  Queen 
motioned  to  them  to  desist.  So,  with  the 
eyes  of  the  whole  court  on  him  again,  and 
Elizabeth's  calm,  curious  gaze  fixed,  as  it 
were,  on  his  forehead,  he  stood  still  till  the 
flaming  Gentlemen  Pensioners  were  within 
a  few  feet  of  him  and  the  battle-axes  were 
almost  over  his  head. 

The  great  braggart  was  no  better  now  than 
a  wisp  of  grass  in  the  wind,  and  it  was  more 
than  homage  that  bent  him  to  his  knees  as 
the  Queen  looked  him  full  in  the  eyes.  There 
was  a  moment's  absolute  silence,  and  then 
she  said,  with  cold  condescension: 

"By  what  privilege  do  you  seek  our  pres- 
ence?" 

"  I  am  Raoul  Lempriere,  Seigneur  of  Rozel, 
your  high  Majesty,"  said  the  choking  voice 
of  the  Jerseyman. 

The  Queen  raised  her  eyebrows.  "  The  man 
seems  French.  You  come  from  France?" 

Lempriere  flushed  to  his  hair — the  Queen 
82 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

did  not  know  him,  then !  ' '  From  Jersey  Isle, 
your  sacred  Majesty." 

"Jersey  Isle  is  dear  to  us.  And  what  is 
your  warrant  here  ?" 

"I  am  butler  to  your  Majesty,  by  your 
gracious  Majesty's  patent,  and  I  alone  may 
have  dove-cotes  in  the  isle;  and  I  only  may 
have  the  perquage — on  your  Majesty's  pat- 
ent. It  is  not  even  held  by  De  Carteret  of 
St.  Ouen's." 

The  Queen  smiled  as  she  had  not  smiled 
since  she  entered  the  presence-chamber. 
"God  preserve  us,"  she  said,  "that  I  should 
not  have  recognized  you!  It  is,  of  course, 
our  faithful  Lempriere  of  Rozel." 

The  blood  came  back  to  the  seigneur's 
heart,  but  he  did  not  dare  look  up  yet,  and 
he  did  not  see  that  Elizabeth  was  in  rare 
mirth  at  his  words;  and  though  she  had  no 
ken  or  memory  of  him,  she  read  his  nature 
and  was  mindful  to  humor  him.  Beckoning 
Leicester  to  her  side,  she  said  a  few  words  in 
an  undertone,  to  which  he  replied  with  a 
smile  more  sour  than  sweet. 

"Rise,  Monsieur  of  Rozel,"  she  said. 

83 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

The  seigneur  stood  up,  and  met  her  gaze 
faintly. 

"And  so,  proud  seigneur,  you  must  needs 
flout  e'en  our  Lord  Chamberlain,  in  the  name 
of  our  butler  with  three  dove-cotes  and  the 
perquage.  In  sooth  thy  office  must  not  be 
set  at  naught  lightly — not  when  it  is  flanked 
by  the  perquage.  By  my  father's  doublet, 
but  that  frieze  jerkin  is  well  cut ;  it  suits  thy 
figure  well — I  would  that  my  Lord  Leicester 
here  had  such  a  tailor.  But  this  perquage — 
I  doubt  not  there  are  those  here  at  court  who 
are  most  ignorant  of  its  force  and  moment. 
My  Lord  Chamberlain,  my  Lord  Leicester, 
Cecil  here — confusion  sits  in  their  faces.  The 
perquage,  which  my  father's  patent  approved, 
has  served  us  well,  I  doubt  not,  is  a  comfort 
to  our  realm  and  a  dignity  befitting  the 
wearer  of  that  frieze  jerkin.  Speak  to  their 
better  understanding,  Monsieur  of  Rozel." 

"Speak,  Nuncio,  and  you  shall  have  com- 
forts, and  be  given  in  marriage,  multiple  or 
singular,  even  as  I,"  said  the  fool,  and  touch- 
ed him  on  the  breast  with  his  bells. 

Lempriere  had  recovered  his  heart,  and 
84 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

now  was  set  full  sail  in  the  course  he  had 
charted  for  himself  in  Jersey.  In  large  words 
and  larger  manner  he  explained  most  inno- 
cently the  sacred  privilege  of  perquage. 

"And  how  often  have  you  used  the  right, 
friend?"  asked  Elizabeth. 

"But  once  in  ten  years,  your  noble  Maj- 
esty." 

"When  last?" 

"But  yesterday  a  week,  your  universal 
Majesty." 

Elizabeth  raised  her  eyebrows.  "Who 
was  the  criminal,  what  the  occasion?" 

"The  criminal  was  one  Buonespoir,  the 
occasion  our  coming  hither  to  wait  upon  the 
Queen  of  England  and  our  Lady  of  Nor- 
mandy, for  such  is  your  well-born  Majesty 
to  your  loyal  Jersiais."  And  thereupon  he 
plunged  into  an  impeachment  of  De  Carteret 
of  St.  Ouen's,  and  stumbled  through  a  blunt, 
broken  story  of  the  wrongs  and  the  sorrows 
of  Michel  and  Angele  and  the  doings  of 
Buonespoir  in  their  behalf. 

Elizabeth  frowned  and  interrupted  him. 
"  I  have  heard  of  this  Buonespoir,  monsieur, 

7  85 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

through  others  than  the  Seigneur  of  St. 
Ouen's.  He  is  an  unlikely  squire  of  dames. 
There's  a  hill  in  my  kingdom  has  long  bided 
his  coming.  Where  waits  the  rascal  now?" 

"In  the  antechapel,  your  Majesty." 

"By  the  rood!"  said  Elizabeth,  in  sudden 
amazement.  "  In  my  antechapel,  forsooth !" 

She  looked  beyond  the  doorway  and  saw 
the  great,  red-topped  figure  of  Buonespoir, 
his  good-natured,  fearless  face,  his  shock  of 
hair,  his  clear  blue  eye — he  was  not  thirty 
feet  away. 

"He  conies  to  crave  pardon  for  his  rank 
offences,  your  benignant  Majesty,"  said  Lem- 
priere. 

The  humor  of  the  thing  rushed  upon  the 
Queen.  Never  before  were  two  such  naive 
folk  at  court.  There  was  not  a  hair  of  du- 
plicity in  the  heads  of  the  two,  and  she  judged 
them  well  in  her  mind. 

"I  will  see  you  stand  together — you  and 
your  henchman,"  she  said  to  Rozel,  and 
moved  on  to  the  antechapel,  the  court  fol- 
lowing. Standing  still  just  inside  the  door- 
way, she  motioned  Buonespoir  to  come  near. 
86 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

The  pirate,  unconfused,  undismayed,  with 
his  wide,  blue,  asking  eyes,  came  forward 
and  dropped  upon  his  knees.  Elizabeth  mo- 
tioned Lempriere  to  stand  a  little  apart. 

Thereupon  she  set  a  few  questions  to 
Buonespoir,  whose  replies,  truthfully  given, 
showed  that  he  had  no  real  estimate  of  his 
crimes,  and  was  indifferent  to  what  might 
be  their  penalties.  He  had  no  moral  sense 
on  the  one  hand,  on  the  other,  no  fear. 

Suddenly  she  turned  to  Lempriere  again. 
"  You  came,  then,  to  speak  for  this  Michel  de 
la  Foret,  the  exile — ?" 

"And  for  the  demoiselle  Angele  Aubert, 
who  loves  him,  your  Majesty." 

"  I  sent  for  this  gentleman  exile  a  fortnight 
ago — "  She  turned  towards  Leicester  in- 
quiringly. 

"I  have  the  papers  here,  your  Majesty," 
said  Leicester,  and  gave  a  packet  over. 

"And  where  have  you  De  la  Foret?"  said 
Elizabeth. 

"In  durance,  your  Majesty." 

"When  came  he  hither?" 

"Three  days  gone,"  answered  Leicester,  a 
87 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

little  gloomily,  for  there  was  acerbity  in 
Elizabeth's  voice. 

Elizabeth  seemed  about  to  speak,  then 
dropped  her  eyes  upon  the  papers  and 
glanced  hastily  at  their  contents. 

"You  will  have  this  Michel  de  la  Foret 
brought  to  my  presence  as  fast  as  horse  can 
bring  him,  my  lord,"  she  said  to  Leicester. 
"This  rascal  of  the  sea — Buonespoir — you 
will  have  safe  bestowed  till  I  recall  his  exist- 
ence again,"  she  said  to  a  captain  of  men-at- 
arms;  "and  you,  Monsieur  of  Rozel,  since 
you  are  my  butler,  will  get  you  to  my  dining- 
room  and  do  your  duty — the  office  is  not  all 
perquisites,"  she  added,  smoothly.  She  was 
about  to  move  on  when  a  thought  seemed 
to  strike  her,  and  she  added,  "  This  mademoi- 
selle and  her  father  whom  you  brought  hith- 
er— where  are  they?" 

"  They  are  even  within  the  palace  grounds, 
your  imperial  Majesty,"  answered  Lem- 
priere. 

"  You  will  summon  them  when  I  bid  you," 
she  said  to  the  seigneur;  "and  you  shall  see 
that  they  have  comforts  and  housing  as  be- 
88 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

fits  their  station,"  she  added  to  the  Lord 
Chamberlain. 

So  did  Elizabeth,  out  of  a  whimsical  hu- 
mor, set  the  highest  in  the  land  to  attend 
upon  unknown,  unconsidered  exiles. 


VIII 


IVE  minutes  later  Lem- 
priere  of  Rozel,  as  butler 
to  the  Queen,  saw  a  sight 
of  which  he  told  to  his  dy- 
ing day.  When,  after  va- 
ried troubles  hereafter  set 
down,  he  went  back  to  Jersey,  he  made  a 
speech  before  the  royal  court,  in  which  he 
told  what  chanced  while  Elizabeth  was  at. 
chapel. 

"There  stood  I,  butler  to  the  Queen,"  he 
said,  with  a  large  gesture,  "but  what  knew 
I  of  butler's  duties  at  Greenwich  Palace! 
Her  Majesty  had  given  me  an  office  where 
all  the  work  was  done. for  me.  Odd's  life! 
but  when  I  saw  the  Gentleman  of  the  Rod 
and  his  fellow  get  down  on  their  knees  to 
lay  the  cloth  upon  the  table,  as  though  it 
was  an  altar  at  Jerusalem,  I  thought  it  time-- 
go 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

to  say  my  prayers.  There  was  naught  but 
kneeling  and  retiring.  Now  it  was  the  salt- 
cellar, the  plate,  and  the  bread ;  then  it  was 
a  Duke's  Daughter  —  a  noble  soul  as  ever 
lived — with  a  tasting-knife,  as  beautiful  as 
a  rose;  then  another  lady  enters  who  glares 
at  me,  and  gets  to  her  knees  as  does  the  other. 
Three  times  up  and  down,  and  then  one  rubs 
the  plate  with  bread  and  salt,  as  solemn  as 
St.  Ouen's  when  he  says  prayers  in  the  royal 
court.  Gentles,  that  was  a  day  for  Jersey. 
For  there  stood  I  as  master  of  all,  the  Queen's 
"butler,  and  the  greatest  ladies  of  the  land 
doing  my  will — though  it  was  all  Persian 
mystery  to  me,  save  when  the  kettle-drums 
began  to  beat  and  the  trumpet  to  blow,  and 
in  walked  bareheaded  the  yeomen  of  the 
guard,  all  scarlet,  with  a  golden  rose  on  their 
backs,  bringing  in  a  course  of  twenty-four 
gold  dishes,  and  I,  as  Queen's  butler,  receiv- 
ing them. 

"  Then  it  was  I  opened  my  mouth,  amazed 
at  the  endless  dishes  filled  with  niceties  of 
earth,  and  the  Duke's  Daughter  pops  onto 
my  tongue  a  mouthful  of  the  first  dish 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

brought,  and  then  does  the  same  to  every 
yeoman  of  the  guard  that  carried  a  dish — 
that  her  notorious  Majesty  be  safe  against 
the  hand  of  poisoners.  There  was  I,  fed  by 
a  Duke's  Daughter;  and  thus  was  Jersey 
honored;  and  the  Duke's  Daughter  whispers 
to  me,  as  a  dozen  other  unmarried  ladies 
enter,  '  The  Queen  liked  not  the  cut  of  your 
frieze  jerkin  better  than  do  I,  seigneur.' 
With  that  she  joins  the  others,  and  they  all 
kneel  down  and  rise  up  again,  and,  lifting  the 
meat  from  the  table,  bear  it  into  the  Queen's 
private  chamber. 

"When  they  return,  and  the  yeomen  of 
the  guard  go  forth,  I  am  left  alone  with  these 
ladies,  and  there  I  stand  with  twelve  pairs 
of  eyes  upon  me,  little  knowing  what  to  do. 
There  was  laughter  in  the  faces  of  some,  and 
looks  less  taking  in  the  eyes  of  others;  for 
my  Lord  Leicester  was  to  have  done  the 
duty  I  was  set  to  do  that  day,  and  he  the 
greatest  gallant  of  the  kingdom,  as  all  the 
world  knows.  What  they  said  among  them- 
selves I  know  not,  but  I  heard  Leicester's 
name,  and  I  guessed  that  they  were  mostly 
92 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

in  the  pay  of  his  soft  words.  But  the  Duke's 
Daughter  was  on  my  side,  as  was  proved 
betimes  when  Leicester  made  trouble  for  us 
who  went  from  Jersey  to  plead  the  cause  of 
injured  folk.  Of  the  earl's  enmity  to  me — 
a  foolish  spite  of  a  great  nobleman  against 
a  Norman-Jersey  gentleman — and  of  how  it 
injured  others  for  the  moment,  you  all  know ; 
but  we  had  him  by  the  heels  before  the  end 
of  it,  great  earl  and  favorite  as  he  was." 

In  the  same  speech  Lempriere  told  of  his 
audience  with  the  Queen,  even  as  she  sat  at 
dinner,  and  of  what  she  said  to  him;  but 
since  his  words  give  b  it  a  partial  picture  of 
events,  the  relation  must  not  be  his. 

When  the  Queen  returned  from  chapel  to 
her  apartments,  Lempriere  was  called  by  an 
attendant,  and  he  stood  behind  the  Queen's 
chair  until  she  summoned  him  to  face  her. 
Then,  having  finished  her  meal  and  dipped 
her  fingers  in  a  bowl  of  rose-water,  she  took 
up  the  papers  Leicester  had  given  her — the 
Duke's  Daughter  had  read  them  aloud  as  she 
ate — and  said: 

"  Now,  my  good  Seigneur  of  Rozel,  answer 

93 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

me  these  few  questions :  First,  what  concern 
is  it  of  yours  whether  this  Michel  de  la  Foret 
be  sent  back  to  France  or  die  here  in  Eng- 
land?" 

"  I  helped  to  save  his  life  at  sea — one  good 
turn  deserves  another,  your  high-born  Maj- 
esty." 

The  Queen  looked  sharply  at  him,  then 
burst  out  laughing. 

"God's  life,  but  here's  a  bull  making  epi- 
grams !"  she  said.  Then  her  humor  changed. 
"  See  you,  my  butler  of  Rozel,  you  shall  speak 
the  truth,  or  I'll  have  you  where  that  jerkin 
will  fit  you  not  so  we?1  a  month  hence.  Plain 
answers  I  will  have  to  plain  questions,  or  De 
Carteret  of  St.  Ouen's  shall  have  his  will  of 
you  and  your  precious  pirate.  So  bear 
yourself  as  you  would  save  your  head  and 
your  honors." 

Lempriere  of  Rozel  never  had  a  better 
moment  than  when  he  met  the  Queen  of 
England's  threats  with  faultless  intrepidity. 
"I  am  concerned  about  my  head,  but  more 
about  my  honors,  and  most  about  my  hon- 
or," he  replied.  "My  head  is  my  own,  my 
94 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

honors  are  my  family's,  for  which  I  would 
give  my  head  when  needed,  and  my  honor 
defends  both  until  both  are  naught — and  all 
are  in  the  service  of  my  Queen." 

Smiling,  Elizabeth  suddenly  leaned  for- 
ward, and,  with  a  glance  of  satisfaction  tow- 
ards the  Duke's  Daughter,  who  was  present, 
said: 

"  I  had  not  thought  to  find  so  much  logic 
behind  your  rampant  skull,"  she  said. 
"You've  spoken  well,  Rozel,  and  you  shall 
speak  by  the  book  to  the  end,  if  you  will 
save  your  friends.  What  concern  is  it  of 
yours  whether  Michel  de  la  Foret  live  or  die  ?" 

"It  is  a  concern  of  one  whom  I've  sworn 
to  befriend,  and  that  is  my  concern,  your 
ineffable  Majesty." 

"Who  the  friend?" 

"Mademoiselle  Aubert." 

"  The  betrothed  of  this  Michel  de  la  ForSt  ?" 

"Even  so,  your  exalted  Majesty.  But  I 
made  sure  De  la  Foret  was  dead  when  I  asked 
her  to  be  my  wife." 

"Lord!  Lord!  Lord!  hear  this  vast  in- 
fant, this  hulking  baby  of  a  seigneur,  this 

95 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

primeval  innocence !  Listen  to  him,  cousin,'* 
said  the  Queen,  turning  again  to  the  Duke's 
Daughter.  "Was  ever  the  like  of  it  in  any 
kingdom  of  this  earth?  He  chooses  a  pen- 
niless exile — he,  a  butler  to  the  Queen,  with 
three  dove-cotes  and  the  perquage — and  a 
Huguenot  withal.  He  is  refused ;  then  comes 
the  absent  lover  oversea,  to  shipwreck ;  and 
our  seigneur  rescues  him,  'fends  him;  and 
when  yon  master  exile  is  in  peril,  defies  his 
Queen's  commands" — she  tapped  the  papers 
lying  beside  her  on  the  table — "then  comes 
to  England  with  the  lady  to  plead  the  case 
before  his  outraged  sovereign,  with  an  out- 
lawed buccaneer  for  comrade  and  lieutenant. 
There  is  the  case,  is't  not?" 

"  I  swore  to  be  her  friend,"  answered  Lem- 
priere,  stubbornly,  "  and  I  have  done  accord- 
ing to  my  word." 

"There's  not  another  nobleman  in  my 
kingdom  who  would  not  have  thought  twice 
about  the  matter,  with  the  lady  aboard  his 
ship  on  the  high  seas  —  'tis  a  miraculous 
chivalry,  cousin,"  she  added  to  the  Duke's 
Daughter,  who  bowed,  settled  herself  again 
96 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

on  her  velvet  cushion,  and  looked  out  of  the 
corner  of  her  eyes  at  Lempriere. 

"You  opposed  Sir  Hugh  Pawlett's  officers 
who    went    to    arrest    this    De    la    Foret," 
continued  Elizabeth.     "Call  you  that  serv- 
ing your   Queen?     Pawlett   had   our    com-  » 
mands." 

"  I  opposed  them  but  in  form,  that  the 
matter  might  the  more  surely  be  brought  to 
your  Majesty's  knowledge." 

"  It  might  easily  have  brought  you  to  the 
Tower,  man." 

"  I  had  faith  that  your  Majesty  would  do 
right  in  this,  as  in  all  else.  So  I  came  hither 
to  tell  the  whole  story  to  your  judicial  Maj- 
esty." 

"Our  thanks  for  your  certificate  of  char- 
acter," said  the  Queen,  with  amused  irony. 
"  What  is  your  wish  ?  Make  your  words  few 
and  plain." 

"  I  desire  before  all  that  Michel  de  la  Foret 
shall  not  be  returned  to  the  Medici,  most 
radiant  Majesty." 

"That's   plain.     But   there    are   weighty 
matters  'twixt  France  and  England,  and  De 
97 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

la  For£t  may  turn  the  scale  one  way  or  an- 
other. What  follows,  beggar  of  Rozel?" 

"That  Mademoiselle  Aubert  and  her  fa- 
ther may  live  without  let  or  hindrance  in 
Jersey," 

"That  you  may  eat  sour  grapes  ad  eter- 
nam?  Next?" 

"  That  Buonespoir  be  pardoned  all  offences 
and  let  live  in  Jersey  on  pledge  that  he  sin 
no  more,  not  even  to  raid  St.  Ouen's  cellars 
of  the  muscadella  reserved  for  your  generous 
Majesty." 

There  was  such  humor  in  Lempriere's  look 
as  he  spoke  of  the  muscadella  that  the 
Queen  questioned  him  closely  upon  Buones- 
poir's  raid;  and  so  infectious  was  his  mirth 
as  he  told  the  tale  that  Elizabeth,  though 
she  stamped  her  foot  in  assumed  impatience, 
smiled  also. 

"You  shall  have  your  Buonespoir,  sei- 
gneur," she  said;  "but  for  his  future  you 
shall  answer  as  well  as  he." 

"For  what  he  does  in  Jersey  Isle,  your 
commiserate  Majesty?" 

"  For  crime  elsewhere,  if  he  be  caught,  he 
98 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

shall  march  to  Tyburn,  friend,"  she  answered. 
Then  she  hurriedly  added:  "Straightway  go 
and  bring  mademoiselle  and  her  father  hith- 
er. Orders  are  given  for  their  disposal. 
And  to-morrow  at  this  hour  you  shall  wait 
upon  me  in  their  company.  I  thank  you 
for  your  services  as  butler  this  day,  Monsieur 
of  Rozel.  You  do  your  office  rarely." 

As  the  seigneur  left  Elizabeth's  apart- 
ments he  met  the  Earl  of  Leicester  hurrying 
thither,  preceded  by  the  Queen's  messenger. 
Leicester  stopped  and  said,  with  a  slow,  ma- 
licious smile,  "  Farming  is  good,  then — you 
have  fine  crops  this  year  on  your  holding?" 

The  point  escaped  Lempriere  at  first,  for 
the  favorite's  look  was  all  innocence,  and  he 
replied:  "You  are  mistook,  my  lord.  You 
will  remember  I  was  in  the  presence-cham- 
ber an  hour  ago,  my  lord.  I  am  Lempriere, 
Seigneur  of  Rozel,  butler  to  her  Majesty." 

"  But  are  you,  then  ?  I  thought  ypu  were 
a  farmer  and  raised  cabbages."  And,  smil- 
ing, Leicester  passed  on. 

For  a  moment  the  seigneur  stood  ponder- 

99 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

ing  the  earl's  words  and  angrily  wondering 
at  his  obtuseness.  Then  suddenly  he  knew 
he  had  been  mocked,  and  he  turned  and  ran 
after  his  enemy;  but  Leicester  had  vanished 
into  the  Queen's  apartments. 

The  Queen's  fool  was  standing  near,  seem- 
ingly engaged  in  the  light  occupation  of 
catching  imaginary  flies,  buzzing  with  his 
motions.  As  Leicester  disappeared  he  look- 
ed from  under  his  arm  at  Lempriere.  "If 
a  bird  will  not  stop  for  the  salt  to  its  tail, 
then  the  salt  is  damned,  Nuncio;  and  you 
must  cry  David!  and  get  thee  to  the 
quarry." 

Lempriere  stared  at  him  swelling  with 
rage ;  but  the  quaint  smiling  of  the  fool  con- 
quered him,  and,  instead  of  turning  on  his 
heel,  he  spread  himself  like  a  Colossus  and 
looked  down  in  grandeur.  "And  wherefore 
cry  David!  and  get  quarrying?"  he  asked. 
"Come,  what  sense  is  there  in  thy  words 
when  I  am  wroth  with  yonder  nobleman?" 

"  Oh,  Nuncio,  Nuncio,  thou  art  a  child  of 
innocence  and  without  history.  The  salt 
held  not  the  bird  for  the  net  of  thy  anger, 
100 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Nuncio;  so  it  is  meet  that  other  ways  be 
found.  David  the  ancient  put  a  stone  in  a 
sling,  and  Goliath  laid  him  down  like  an  egg 
in  a  nest — therefore,  Nuncio,  get  thee  to  the 
quarry.  Obligate,  which  is  to  say  Leicester 
yonder,  hath  no  tail — the  devil  cut  it  off 
and  wears  it  himself.  So  let  salt  be  damned, 
and  go  sling  thy  stone!" 

Lempriere  was  good-humored  again.  He 
fumbled  in  his  purse  and  brought  forth  a 
gold-piece.  "Fool,  thou  hast  spoken  like  a 
man  born  sensible  and  infinite.  I  understand 
thee  like  a  book.  Thou  hast  not  folly,  and 
thou  shall  not  be  answered  as  if  thou  wast  a 
fool.  But  in  terms  of  gold  shalt  thou  have 
reply."  He  put  the  gold-piece  in  the  fool's 
hand  and  slapped  him  on  the  shoulder. 

"Why  now,  Nuncio,"  answered  the  other, 
"it  is  clear  that  there  is  a  fool  at  court,  for 
is  it  not  written  that  a  fool  and  his  money 
are  soon  parted  ?  And  this  gold -piece  is  still 
hot  with  running  'tween  thee  and  me." 

Lempriere  roared.  "Why,  then,  for  thy 
hit  thou  shalt  have  another  gold-piece,  gos- 
sip. But  see" — his  voice  lowered — "know 
8  101 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

you  where  is  my  friend,  Buonespoir  the 
pirate  ?  Know  you  where  he  is  in  durance  ?" 

"As  I  know  marrow  in  a  bone  I  know 
where  he  hides,  Nuncio;  so  come  with  me," 
answered  the  fool. 

"If  De  Carteret  had  but  thy  sense  we 
could  live  at  peace  in  Jersey,"  rejoined  Lem- 
priere,  and  strode  ponderously  after  the 
light-footed  fool,  who  capered  forth,  singing : 

"Come  hither,  O  come  hither, 

There's  a  bride  upon  her  bed; 
They  have  strewn  her  o'er  with  roses, 

There  are  roses  'neath  her  head: 
Life  is  love  and  tears  and  laughter, 

But  the  laughter  it  is  dead — 
Sing  the  way  to  the  valley,  to  the  valley! — 

Key,  but  the  roses  they  are  red!" 


IX 


HE  next  day  at  noon,  as 
her  Majesty  had  advised 
the  seigneur,  De  la  Foret 
was  ushered  into  the  pres- 
ence. The  Queen's  eye 
quickened  as  she  saw  him, 
and  she  remarked  with  secret  pleasure  the 
figure  and  bearing  of  this  young  captain  of 
the  Huguenots.  She  loved  physical  grace 
and  prowess  with  a  full  heart.  The  day  had 
almost  passed  when  she  would  measure  all 
men  against  Leicester  in  his  favor;  and  he, 
knowing  this  clearly  now,  saw  with  haughty 
anxiety  the  gradual  passing  of  his  power,  and 
clutched  futilely  at  the  vanishing  substance. 
Thus  it  was  that  he  now  spent  his  strength 
in  getting  his  way  with  the  Queen  in  little 
things.  She  had  been  so  long  used  to  take 
his  counsel — in  some  part  wise  and  skilful — 
103 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

kxt,  when  she  at  length  did  without  it  or 
followed  her  own  mind,  it  became  a  fever  with 
him  to  let  no  chance  pass  for  serving  his  own 
will  by  persuading  her  out  of  hers.  This 
was  why  he  had  spent  an  hour  the  day  be- 
fore in  sadly  yet  vaguely  reproaching  her  for 
the  slight  she  put  upon  him  in  the  presence- 
chamber  by  her  frown,  and  another  in  urg- 
ing her  to  come  to  terms  with  Catherine  de' 
Medici  in  this  small  affair — since  the  French- 
woman had  set  her  revengeful  heart  upon  it 

—that  larger  matters  might  be  settled  to  the 
gain  of  England.  It  was  not  so  much  that 
he  had  reason  to  destroy  De  la  Foret  as  that 
he  saw  that  the  Queen  was  disposed  to  deal 
friendly  by  him  and  protect  him.  He  did 
not  see  the  danger  of  rousing  in  the  Queen 
the  same  unreasoning  tenaciousness  of  will 
upon  just  such  lesser  things  as  might  well 
be  left  to  her  advisers.  In  spite  of  which  he 
almost  succeeded,  this  very  day,  in  regaining, 
for  a  time  at  least,  the  ground  he  had  lost 
with  her.  He  had  never  been  so  adroit,  so 
brilliant,  so  witty,  so  insinuating;  and  he 
left  her  with  the  feeling  that  if  he  had  his 
104 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

way  concerning  De  la  Foret — a  mere  stub- 
born whim,  with  no  fair  reason  behind  it — • 
his  influence  would  be  again  securely  set. 
The  sense  of  crisis  was  on  him. 

On  Michel  de  la  Foret  entering  the  pres- 
ence the  Queen's  attention  had  become 
riveted.  She  felt  in  him  a  spirit  of  mastery 
yet  of  unselfish  purpose.  Here  was  one,  she 
thought,  who  might  well  be  in  her  household 
or  leading  a  regiment  of  her  troops.  The 
clear,  fresh  face,  curling  hair,  direct  look, 
quiet  energy,  and  air  of  nobility — this  sort 
of  man  could  only  be  begotten  of  a  great 
cause;  he  were  not  possible  in  idle  or  pros- 
perous times. 

Elizabeth  looked  him  up  and  down,  then 
affected  surprise.  "Monsieur  de  la  For£t," 
she  said,  "I  do  not  recognize  you  in  this 
attire" — glancing  towards  his  dress. 

De  la  Foret  bowed,  and  Elizabeth  con- 
tinued, looking  at  a  paper  in  her  hand: 
"You  landed  on  our  shores  of  Jersey  in  the 
robes  of  a  priest  of  France.  The  passport 
for  a  priest  of  France  was  found  upon  your 
person  when  our  officers  in  Jersey  made 

105 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

search  of  you.  Which  is  yourself — Michel 
de  la  Foret,  soldier,  or  a  priest  of  France?" 

De  la  Foret  replied,  gravely,  that  he  was 
a  soldier  and  that  the  priestly  dress  had 
been  but  a  disguise. 

"  In  which  papist  attire,  methinks,  Michel 
de  la  Foret,  soldier  and  Huguenot,  must 
have  been  ill  at  ease — the  eagle  with  the 
vulture's  wing.  What  say  you,  monsieur?" 

"  That  vulture's  wing  hath  carried  me  to  a 
safe  dove-cote,  your  gracious  Majesty,"  he 
answered,  with  a  low  obeisance. 

"  I'm  none  so  sure  of  that,  monsieur,"  was 
Elizabeth's  answer,  and  she  glanced  quizzi- 
cally at  Leicester,  who  made  a  gesture  of 
annoyance.  "Our  cousin,  France,  makes 
you  to  us  a  dark  intriguer  and  conspirator, 
a  dangerous  weed  in  our  good  garden  of  Eng- 
land, a  'troublous,  treacherous  violence' — 
such  are  you  called,  monsieur." 

"I  am  in  your  high  Majesty's  power,"  he 
answered,  "  to  do  with  me  as  it  seemeth  best. 
If  your  Majesty  wills  it  that  I  be  returned  to 
France,  I  pray  you  set  me  upon  its  coast  as 
I  came  from  it,  a  fugitive.  Thence  will  I  try 
106 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

to  find  my  way  to  the  army  and  the  poor, 
stricken  people  of  whom  I  was.  I  pray  for 
that  only,  and  not  to  be  given  to  the  red 
hand  of  the  Medici." 

"Red  hand — by  my  faith,  but  you  are 
bold,  monsieur!" 

Leicester  tapped  his  foot  upon  the  floor 
impatiently,  then  caught  the  Queen's  eye 
and  gave  her  a  meaning  look. 

De  la  Foret  saw  the  look  and  knew  his 
enemy,  but  he  did  not  quail.  "  Bold  oaly 
by  your  high  Majesty's  faith,  indeed,"  he 
answered  the  Queen,  with  harmless  guile. 

Elizabeth  smiled.  She  loved  such  flatter- 
ing speech  from  a  strong  man.  It  touched 
a  chord  in  her  deeper  than  that  under  Leices- 
ter's finger.  Leicester's  impatience  only 
made  her  more  self-willed  on  the  instant. 

"You  speak  with  the  trumpet  note,  mon- 
sieur," she  said  to  De  la  Foret.  "We  will 
prove  you.  You  shall  have  a  company  in  my 
Lord  Leicester's  army  here,  and  we  will  send 
you  upon  some  service  worthy  of  your  fame." 

"I  crave  your  Majesty's  pardon,  but  I 
cannot  do  it,"  was  De  la  Foret's  instant  reply. 
107 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  I  have  sworn  that  I  will  lift  my  sword  in  one- 
cause  only,  and  to  that  I  must  stand.  And 
more — the  widow  of  my  dead  chief,  Gabriel 
de  Montgomery,  is  set  down  in  this  land  un- 
sheltered and  alone.  I  have  sworn  to  one 
who  loves  her,  and  for  my  dead  chief's  sake, 
that  I  will  serve  her  and  be  near  her  until 
better  days  be  come  and  she  may  return  in 
quietness  to  France.  In  exile  we  few  strick- 
en folk  must  stand  together,  your  august 
Majesty." 

Elizabeth's  eye  flashed  up.  She  was  im- 
patient of  refusal  of  her  favor.  She  was  also 
a  woman,  and  that  De  la  Foret  should  flaunt 
his  devotion  to  another  woman  was  little  to- 
her  liking.  The  woman  in  her,  which  had 
never  been  blessed  with  a  noble  love,  was 
roused.  The  sourness  of  a  childless,  un- 
companionable life  was  stronger  for  the  mo- 
ment than  her  strong  mind  and  sense. 

"Monsieur  has  sworn  this,  and  monsieur 
has  sworn  that,"  she  said,  petulantly — "and 
to  one  who  loveth  a  lady,  and  for  a  cause — 
tut!  tut!  tut!— " 

Suddenly  a  kind  of  intriguing  laugh  leaped. 
108 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

into  her  eye,  and  she  turned  to  Leicester 
and  whispered  in  his  ear.  Leicester  frowned, 
then  smiled,  and  glanced  up  and  down  De 
la  Foret's  figure  impertinently. 

"See,  Monsieur  de  la  ForeV  she  added, 
"  since  you  will  not  fight,  you  shall  preach. 
A  priest  you  came  into  my  kingdom,  and  a 
priest  you  shall  remain ;  but  you  shall  preach 
good  English  doctrine  and  no  Popish  folly." 

De  la  Foret  started,  then  composed  him- 
self, and  before  he  had  time  to  reply  Eliza- 
beth continued: 

"  Partly  for  your  own  sake  am  I  thus  gra- 
cious, for  as  a  preacher  of  the  Word  I  have  not 
need  to  give  you  up,  according  to  agreement 
with  our  brother  of  France.  As  a  rebel  and 
conspirator  I  were  bound  to  do  so,  unless 
you  were  an  officer  of  my  army.  The  Sei- 
gneur of  Rozel  has  spoken  for  you,  and  the 
Comtesse  de  Montgomery  has  written  a 
pleading  letter.  Also  I  have  from  another 
source  a  tearful  prayer — the  ink  is  scare  dry 
upon  it — which  has  been  of  service  to  you. 
But  I  myself  have  chosen  this  way  of  es- 
cape for  you.  Prove  yourself  worthy  and 
109 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

all  may  be  well — but  prove  yourself  you 
shall.  You  have  prepared  your  own  brine, 
monsieur;  in  it  you  shall  pickle." 

She  smiled  a  sour  smile,  for  she  was  piqued, 
and  added:  "Do  you  think  I  will  have  you 
here  squiring  of  distressed  dames  save  as 
a  priest?  You  shall  hence  to  Madame  of 
Montgomery  as  her  faithful  chaplain,  once 
I  have  heard  you  preach  and  know  your 
doctrine." 

Leicester  almost  laughed  outright  in  the 
young  man's  face  now,  for  he  had  no  thought 
that  De  la  Foret  would  accept,  and  refusal 
meant  the  exile's  doom. 

It  seemed  fantastic  that  this  noble  gentle- 
man, this  very  type  of  the  perfect  soldier, 
with  the  brown  face  of  a  Romany  and  an 
athletic  valor  of  body,  should  become  a 
preacher  even  in  necessity. 

Elizabeth,  seeing  De  la  Foret 's  dumb 
amazement  and  anxiety,  spoke  up  sharply: 
"  Do  this,  or  get  you  hence  to  the  Medici,  and 
Madame  of  Montgomery  shall  mourn  her 
protector,  and  mademoiselle,  your  mistress 
of  the  vermilion  cheek,  shall  have  one  lover 
no 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

the  less,  which,  methinks,  our  Seigneur  of 
Rozel  would  thank  me  for." 

De  la  Foret  started,  his  lips  pressed  firmly 
together  in  effort  of  restraint.  There  seemed 
little  the  Queen  did  not  know  concerning 
him,  and  reference  to  Angele  roused  him  to 
sharp  solicitude. 

"Well,  well?"  asked  Elizabeth,  impatient- 
ly, then  made  a  motion  to  Leicester,  and  he, 
going  to  the  door,  bade  some  one  to  enter. 

There  stepped  inside  the  Seigneur  of  Ro- 
zel, who  made  a  lumbering  obeisance,  then 
got  to  his  knees  before  the  Queen. 

"  You  have  brought  the  lady  safely — with 
her  father?"  she  asked. 

Lempriere,  puzzled,  looked  inquiringly  at 
the  Queen,  then  replied,  "  Both  are  safe  with- 
out, your  infinite  Majesty." 

De  la  Foret's  face  grew  pale.  He  knew 
now  for  the  first  time  that  Angele  and  her 
father  were  in  England,  and  he  looked  Lem- 
priere suspiciously  in  the  eyes ;  but  the  swag- 
gering seigneur  met  his  look  frankly,  and 
bowed  with  ponderous  and  genial  gravity. 

Now  De  la  Foret  spoke.  "Your  high 
in 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Majesty,"  said  he,  "if  I  may  ask  Mademoi- 
selle Aubert  one  question  in  your  pres- 
ence—  " 

"Your  answer  now;  the  lady  in  due  sea- 
son," interposed  the  Queen. 

"  She  was  betrothed  to  a  soldier,  she  may 
resent  a  priest,"  said  De  la  For£t,  with  a, 
touch  of  humor,  for  he  saw  the  better  way 
was  to  take  the  matter  with  some  outward 
ease. 

Elizabeth  smiled.  "  It  is  the  custom  of  her 
sex  to  have  a  fondness  for  both,"  she  an- 
swered, with  an  acid  smile.  "  But  your  an- 
swer?" 

De  la  Foret's  face  became  exceeding  grave. 
Bowing  his  head,  he  said:  "My  sword  has 
spoken  freely  for  the  cause ;  God  forbid  that 
my  tongue  should  not  speak  also.  I  will  de- 
vour Majesty's  behest." 

The  jesting  word  that  was  upon  the  royal 
lips  came  not  forth,  for  De  la  Foret's  face  wa& 
that  of  a  man  who  had  determined  a  great 
thing,  and  Elizabeth  was  one  who  had  a 
heart  for  high  deeds.  "The  man  is  brave 
indeed,"  she  said,  under  her  breath,  and,, 
112 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

turning  to  the  dumfotmded  seigneur,  bade 
him  bring  in  Mademoiselle  Aubert. 

A  moment  later,  Angele  entered,  came  a 
few  steps  forward,  made  obeisance,  and  stood 
still.  She  showed  no  trepidation,  but  look- 
ed before  her  steadily.  She  knew  not  what 
was  to  be  required  of  her — she  was  a  stranger 
in  a  strange  land;  but  persecution  and  exile 
had  gone  far  to  strengthen  her  spirit  and 
greaten  her  composure. 

Elizabeth  gazed  at  the  girl  coldly  and 
critically.  To  women  she  was  not  over- 
amiable;  but  as  she  looked  at  the  young 
Huguenot  maid,  of  this  calm  bearing,  warm 
of  color,  clear  of  eye,  and  purposeful  of  face, 
something  kindled  in  her.  Most  like  it  was 
that  love  for  a  cause  which  was  more  to  be 
encouraged  by  her  than  any  woman's  love 
for  a  man,  which,  as  she  grew  older,  inspired 
her  with  aversion,  as  talk  of  marriage  brought 
cynical  allusions  to  her  lips. 

"  I  have  your  letter  and  its  protests  and  its 
pleadings.  There  were  fine  words  and  ad- 
jurations— are  you  so  religious,  then?"  she 
asked,  brusquely. 

"3 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"I  am  a  Huguenot,  your  noble  Majesty," 
answered  the  girl,  as  though  that  answered 
all. 

"How  is  it,  then,  you  are  betrothed  to  a 
roistering  soldier?"  asked  the  Queen. 

"Some  must  pray  for  Christ's  sake,  and 
some  must  fight,  your  most  Christian  Maj- 
esty," answered  the  girl. 

"  Some  must  do  both,"  rejoined  the  Queen, 
in  a  kinder  voice,  for  the  pure  spirit  of  the 
girl  worked  upon  her.  "  I  am  told  that  Mon- 
sieur de  la  Foret  fights  fairly.  If  he  can 
pray  as  well,  methinks  he  shall  have  safety 
in  our  kingdom,  and  ye  shall  all  have  peace. 
On  Trinity  Sunday  you  shall  preach  in  my 
chapel,  Monsieur  de  la  Foret,  and  thereafter 
you  shall  know  your  fate." 

She  rose.  "My  lord,"  she  said  to  Leices- 
ter, on  whose  face  gloom  had  settled,  "you 
will  tell  the  Lord  Chamberlain  that  Monsieur 
de  la  Foret 's  durance  must  be  made  comfort- 
able in  the  west  tower  of  my  palace  till  chapel- 
going  of  Trinity  Day.  I  will  send  him  for 
his  comfort  and  instruction  some  sermons  of 
Latimer's." 

114' 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

She  stepped  down  from  the  dais.  "You 
will  come  with  me,  mistress,"  she  said  to 
Angele,  and  reached  out  her  hand. 

Angele  fell  on  her  knees  and  kissed  it, 
tears  falling  down  her  cheek,  then  rose  and 
followed  the  Queen  from  the  chamber.  She 
greatly  desired  to  look  backward  towards 
De  la  Foret,  but  some  good  angel  bade  her 
not ;  she  realized  that  to  offend  the  Queen  at 
this  moment  might  ruin  all;  and  Elizabeth 
herself  was  little  like  to  offer  chance  for  fare- 
well and  love-tokens. 

So  it  was  that,  with  bowed  head,  Angele 
left  the  room  with  the  Queen  of  England, 
leaving  Lempriere  and  De  la  Foret  gazing  at 
each  other,  the  one  bewildered,  the  other 
lost  in  painful  reverie,  and  Leicester  smiling 
maliciously  at  them  both. 


VERY  man,  if  you  bring 
him  to  the  right  point,  if 
you  touch  him  in  the  cor- 
ner where  he  is  most  sen- 
sitive, where  he  most  lives, 
as  it  were ;  if  you  prick  his 
nerves  with  a  needle  of  suggestion  where  all 
his  passions,  ambitions,  and  sentiments  are 
at  white  heat,  will  readily  throw  away  the 
whole  game  of  life  in  some  mad  act  out  of 
harmony  with  all  he  ever  did.  It  matters 
little  whether  the  needle  prick  him  by  acci- 
dent or  blunder  or  design,  he  will  burst  all 
bounds  and  establish  again  the  old  truth 
that  each  of  us  will  prove  himself  a  fool 
given  perfect  opportunity.  Nor  need  the  oc- 
casion of  this  revolution  be  a  great  one ;  the 
most  trivial  event  may  produce  the  great  fire 
which  burns  up  wisdom,  prudence,  and  habit. 
116 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

The  Earl  of  Leicester,  so  long  counted 
.astute,  clear-headed,  and  well  governed,  had 
been  suddenly  foisted  out  of  balance,  shaken 
from  his  imperious  composure,  tortured  out 
of  an  assumed  and  persistent  urbanity,  by 
the  presence  in  Greenwich  Palace  of  a  Hugue- 
not exile  of  no  seeming  importance,  save 
what  the  Medici  grimly  gave  him  by  desir- 
ing his  head.  It  appeared  absurd  that  the 
great  Leicester,  whose  nearness  to  the  throne 
had  made  him  the  most  feared,  most  notable, 
and,  by  virtue  of  his  opportunities,  the  most 
dramatic  figure  in  England,  should  have 
sleepless  nights  by  reason  of  a  fugitive  like 
Michel  de  la  Foret.  On  the  surface  it  was 
preposterous  that  he  should  see  in  the  Queen's 
offer  of  service  to  the  refugee  evidence  that 
she  was  set  to  grant  him  special  favors;  it 
was  equally  absurd  that  her  offer  of  safety 
to  him  on  pledge  of  his  turning  preacher 
should  seem  proof  that  she  meant  to  have 
him  near  her. 

Elizabeth  had  left  the  presence-chamber 
without  so  much  as  a  glance  at  him,  though 
she  had  turned  and  looked  graciously  at  the 
o  117 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

stranger.  He  had  hastily  followed  her,  and 
thereafter  impatiently  awaited  a  summons 
which  never  came,  though  he  had  sent  a 
message  that  his  hours  were  at  her  Majesty's 
disposal.  Waiting,  he  saw  Angele's  father 
escorted  from  the  palace  by  a  Gentleman 
Pensioner  to  a  lodge  in  the  park;  he  saw 
Michel  de  la  Foret  taken  to  his  apartm'ents; 
he  saw  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel  walking  in 
the  palace  grounds  with  such  possession  as 
though  they  were  his  own,  self -content  in 
every  motion  of  his  body. 

Upon  the  instant  the  great  earl  was  in- 
censed out  of  all  proportion  to  the  affront  of 
the  seigneur's  existence.  He  suddenly  hated 
Lempriere  only  less  than  he  hated  Michel  de 
la  Foret.  As  he  still  waited  irritably  for  a 
summons  from  Elizabeth,  he  brooded  on 
every  word  and  every  look  she  had  given 
him  of  late ;  .he  recalled  her  manner  to  him 
in  the  antechapel  the  day  before,  and  the 
admiring  look  she  cast  on  De  la  Foret  but 
now.  He  had  seen  more  in  it  than  mere  ap- 
proval of  courage  and  the  self-reliant  bear- 
ing of  a  refugee  of  her  own  religion. 
118 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

These  were  days  when  the  .  oldier  of  fort- 
une mounted  to  high  places.  He  needed 
but  to  carry  the  banner  of  bravery  and  a 
busy  sword,  and  his  way  to  power  was  not 
hindered  by  poor  estate.  To  be  gently  born 
was  the  one  thing  needful,  and  Michel  de  la 
Foret  was  gently  born;  and  he  had  still  his 
sword,  though  he  chose  not  to  use  it  in 
Elizabeth's  service.  My  lord  knew  it  might 
be  easier  for  a  stranger  like  De  la  Foret,  who 
came  with  no  encumbrance,  to  mount  to 
place  in  the  struggles  of  the  court,  than  for 
an  Englishman,  whose  increasing  and  ever- 
bolder  enemies  were  undermining  on  every 
hand,  to  hold  his  own. 

He  began  to  think  upon  ways  and  means 
to  meet  this  sudden  preference  of  the  Queen, 
made  sharply  manifest,  as  he  waited  in  the 
antechamber,  by  a  summons  to  the  refugee 
to  enter  the  Queen's  apartments.  When 
the  refugee  came  forth  again  he  wore  a 
sword  the  Queen  had  sent  him,  and  a  packet 
of  Latimer's  sermons  were  under  his  arm. 
Leicester  was  unaware  that  Elizabeth  her- 
self did  not  see  De  la  Foret  when  he  was 
119 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

thus  hastily  called;  but  that  her  lady-in- 
waiting,  the  Duke's  Daughter,  who  figured 
so  largely  in  the  pictures  Lempriere  drew  of 
his  experiences  at  Greenwich  Palace,  brought 
forth  the  sermons  and  the  sword,  with  this 
message  from  the  Queen: 

"The  Queen  says  that  it  is  but  fair  to 
the  sword  to  be  by  Michel  de  la  Foret's  side 
when  the  sermons  are  in  his  hand,  that 
his  choice  have  every  seeming  of  fairness. 
For  her  Majesty  says  it  is  still  his  choice,  be- 
tween the  Sword  and  the  Book  till  Trinity 
Day." 

Leicester,  however,  only  saw  the  sword  at 
the  side  of  the  refugee  and  the  gold-bound 
book  under  his  arm  as  he  came  forth,  and  in 
a  rage  he  left  the  palace  and  gloomily  walked 
under  the  trees,  denying  himself  to  every 
one. 

To  seize  De  la  Foret,  and  send  him 
to  the  Medici,  and  then  rely  on  Elizabeth's 
favor  for  his  pardon,  as  he  had  done  in 
the  past?  That  might  do,  but  the  risk 
to  England  was  too  great.  It  would  be 
like  the  Queen,  if  her  temper  was  up,  to 
120 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

demand  from  the  Medici  the  return  of  De 
la  Foret,  and  war  might  ensue.  Two  wom- 
en, with  two  nations  behind  them,  were 
not  to  be  played  lightly  against  each 
other,  trusting  to  their  common -sense  and 
humor. 

As  he  walked  among  the  trees,  brooding 
with  averted  eyes,  he  was  suddenly  faced  by 
the  Seigneur  of  Rozel,  who  also  was  shaken 
from  his  discretion  and  the  best  interests  of 
the  two  fugitives  he  was  bound  to  protect 
by  a  late  offence  against  his  own  dignity.  A 
seed  of  rancor  had  been  sown  in  his  mind 
which  had  grown  to  a  great  size,  and  must 
presently  burst  into  a  dark  flower  of  ven- 
geance. He,  Lempriere  of  Rozel,  with  three 
dove-cotes,  the  perquage,  and  the  office  of 
butler  to  the  Queen,  to  be  called  a  "  farmer," 
to  be  sneered  at — it  was  not  in  the  blood  of 
man,  not  in  the  towering  vanity  of  a  Lem- 
priere, to  endure  it  at  any  price  computable 
to  mortal  mind. 

Thus  there  were  in  England  on  that  day 
two  fools  (there  are  as  many  now),  and  one 
said: 

121 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"My  Lord  Leicester,  I  crave  a  word  with 
you." 

"Crave  on,  good  fellow,"  responded  Lei- 
cester, with  a  look  of  boredom,  making  to 
pass  by. 

"I  am  Lempriere,  Lord  of  Rozel,  my 
lord—" 

"Ah  yes,  I  took  you  for  a  farmer,"  an- 
swered Leicester.  "Instead  of  that,  I  be- 
lieve you  keep  doves,  and  wear  a  jerkin  that 
fits  like  a  king's.  Dear  Lord,  so  does  great- 
ness come  with  girth!" 

"The  king  that  gave  me  dove-cotes  gave 
me  honor,  and  'tis  not  for  the  Earl  of  Leices- 
ter to  belittle  it." 

"  What  is  your  coat  of  arms  ?"  said  Leices- 
ter, with  a  faint  smile,  but  in  an  assumed 
tone  of  natural  interest. 

"A  swan  upon  a  sea  of  azure,  two  stars 
above,  and  over  all  a  sword  with  a  wreath 
around  its  point,"  answered  Lempriere,  sim- 
ply, unsuspecting  irony,  and  touched  by 
Leicester's  flint  where  he  was  most  like  to 
flare  up  with  vanity. 

" Ah !"  said  Leicester.     "And  the  motto ?" 

122 


"Mea  spes  supra  Stellas — my  hope  is  be- 
yond the  stars." 

"And  the  wreath — of  parsley,  I  suppose?" 

Now  Lempriere  understood,  and  he  shook 
with  fury  as  he  roared : 

"Yes,  by  God,  and  to  be  got  at  the  point 
of  the  sword,  to  put  on  the  heads  of  insolents 
like  Lord  Leicester!"  His  face  was  flaming, 
he  was  like  a  cock  strutting  upon  a  stable 
mound. 

There  fell  a  slight  pause,  and  then  Leicester 
said,  "To-morrow  at  daylight,  eh?" 

"Now,  my  lord,  now!" 

"We  have  no  seconds." 

"  'Sblood !  'Tis  not  your  way,  my  lord,  to 
be  stickling  in  detail  of  courtesy." 

"  'Tis  not  the  custom  to  draw  swords  in 
secret,  Lempriere  of  Rozel.  Also,  my  teeth 
are  not  on  edge  to  fight  you." 

Lempriere  had  already  drawn  his  sword, 
and  the  look  of  his  eyes  was  as  that  of  a  mad 
bull  in  a  ring.  "  You  won't  fight  with  me — 
you  don't  think  Rozel  your  equal?"  His 
voice  was  high. 

Leicester's  face  took  on  a  hard,  cruel  look. 
123 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  We  cannot  fight  among  the  ladies,"  he  said, 
quietly. 

Lempriere  followed  his  glance,  and  saw  the 
Duke's  Daughter  and  another  in  the  trees 
near  by. 

He  hastily  put  up  his  sword.  "  When,  my 
lord?"  he  asked. 

"You  will  hear  from  me  to-night,"  was 
the  answer,  and  Leicester  went  forward 
hastily  to  meet  the  ladies — they  had  news, 
no  doubt. 

Lempriere  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked 
quickly  away  among  the  trees  towards  the 
quarters  where  Buonespoir  was  in  durance, 
which  was  little  more  severe  than  to  keep 
him  within  the  palace  yard.  There  he  found 
the  fool  and  the  pirate  in  whimsical  con- 
verse. The  fool  had  brought  a  letter  of  in- 
quiry and  warm  greeting  from  Angele  to 
Buonespoir,  who  was  laboriously  inditing 
one  in  return.  When  Lempriere  entered 
the  pirate  greeted  him  jovially. 

"In  the  very  pinch  of  time!"  he  said. 
"You  have  grammar  and  syntax  and  eti- 
quette." 

124 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  Tis  even  so,  Nuncio,"  said  the  fool. 
"Here  is  needed  prosody  potential.  Ex- 
hale!" 

The  three  put  their  heads  together  above 
the  paper. 


XI 


WOULD  know  your  story. 
How  came  you  and  yours 
to  this  pass  ?  Where  were 
you  born?  Of  what  de- 
gree are  you?  ,And  this 
Michel  de  la  Foret,  when 
came  he  to  your  feet — or  you  to  his  arms? 
I  would  know  all.  Begin  where  life  began; 
end  where  you  sit  here  at  the  feet  of  Eliza- 
beth. This  other  cushion  to  your  knees. 
There — now  speak.  We  are  alone." 

Elizabeth  pushed  a  velvet  cushion  towards 
Angele,  where  she  half -knelt,  half -sat  on  the 
rush-strewn  floor  of  the  great  chamber.  The 
warm  light  of  the  afternoon  sun  glowed 
through  the  thick-tinted  glass  high  up,  and 
in  the  gleam  the  heavy  tapestries  sent  by 
an  archduke,  once  suitor  for  her  hand, 
126 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

emerged  with  dramatic  distinctness,  and 
peopled  the  room  with  silent  watchers  of  the 
great  Queen  and  the  nobly  born  but  poor 
and  fugitive  Huguenot.  A  splendid  piece  of 
sculpture — Eleanor,  wife  of  Edward — given 
Elizabeth  by  another  royal  suitor,  who  had 
sought  to  be  her  consort  through  many 
years,  caught  the  warm  bath  of  gold  and 
crimson  from  the  clerestory  and  seemed 
alive  and  breathing.  Against  the  pedestal 
the  Queen  had  placed  her  visitor,  the  red 
cushions  making  vivid  contrast  to  her  white 
gown  and  black  hair.  In  the  half -kneeling, 
half -sitting  posture,  with  her  hands  clasped 
before  her,  so  to  steady  herself  to  composure, 
Angele  looked  a  suppliant — and  a  saint. 
Her  pure,  straightforward  gaze,  her  smooth, 
urbane  forehead,  the  guilelessness  that  spoke 
in  every  feature,  were  not  made  worldly  by 
the  intelligence  and  humor  reposing  in  the 
brown  depths  of  her  eyes.  Not  a  line  vexed 
her  face  or  forehead.  Her  countenance  was 
of  a  singular  and  almost  polished  smooth- 
ness, and  though  her  gown  was  severely  sim- 
ple by  comparison  with  silks  and  velvets, 
127 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

furs  and  ruffles  of  a  gorgeous  court  at  its 
most  gorgeous  period,  yet  in  it  here  and 
there  were  touches  of  exquisite  fineness. 
The  black  velvet  ribbon  slashing  her  sleeves, 
the  slight,  cloudlike  gathering  of  lace  at  the 
back  of  her  head,  gave  a  distinguished  soft- 
ness to  her  appearance. 

She  was  in  curious  contrast  to  the  Queen, 
who  sat  upon  heaped-up  cushions,  her  rich 
buff-and-black  gown  a  blaze  of  jewels,  her 
yellow  hair,  now  streaked  with  gray,  roped 
with  pearls,  her  hands  heavy  with  rings,  her 
face  past  its  youth,  past  its  hopefulness, 
however  noble  and  impressive,  past  its  vivid 
beauty.  Her  eyes  wore  ever  a  determined 
look,  were  persistent  and  vigilant,  with  a 
lurking  trouble,  yet  flooded,  too,  by  a  quiet 
melancholy,  like  a  low,  insistent  note  that 
floats  through  an  opera  of  passion,  romance, 
and  tragedy;  like  a  tone  of  pathos  giving 
deep  character  to  some  splendid  pageant, 
which  praises  while  it  commemorates,  pro- 
claiming conquest  while  the  grass  has  not  yet 
grown  on  quiet  houses  of  the  children  of 
the  sword  who  no  more  wield  the  sword. 
128 


"SHE  WAS  IN  CURIOUS  CONTRAST  TO  THE  QUEEN" 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Evasive,  cautious,  secretive,  creator  of  her 
own  policy,  she  had  sacrificed  her  woman- 
hood to  the  power  she  held  and  the  State 
she  served.  Vain,  passionate,  and  faithful, 
her  heart  all  England  and  Elizabeth,  the 
hunger  for  glimpses  of  what  she  had  never 
known,  and  was  never  to  know,  thrust  it- 
self into  her  famished  life ;  and  she  was  wont 
to  indulge,  as  now,  in  fancies  and  follow  some 
emotional  whim  with  a  determination  very 
like  to  eccentricity. 

That,  at  this  time,  when  great  national 
events  were  forward,  when  conspiracies 
abounded,  when  Parliament  was  grimly 
gathering  strength  to  compel  her  to  marry; 
and  her  council  were  as  sternly  pursuing 
their  policy  for  the  destruction  of  Leicester; 
while  that  very  day  had  come  news  of  a 
rising  in  the  north  and  of  fresh  Popish  plots 
hatched  in  France — that  in  such  case,  this 
day  she  should  set  aside  all  business,  refuse 
ambassadors  and  envoys  admission,  and 
occupy  herself  with  two  Huguenot  refugees 
seemed  incredible  to  the  younger  courtiers. 
To  such  as  Cecil,  however,  there  was  clear 
129 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

understanding.  He  knew  that  when  she 
seemed  most  inert,  most  impassive  to  tur- 
bulent occurrences,  most  careless  of  conse- 
quences, she  was  but  waiting  till,  in  her  own 
mind,  her  plans  were  grown;  so  that  she 
should  see  her  end  clearly  ere  she  spoke  or 
moved.  Now,  as  the  great  minister  showed 
himself  at  the  door  of  the  chamber  and  saw 
Elizabeth  seated  with  Angele,  he  drew  back 
instinctively,  expectant  of  the  upraised  hand 
which  told  him  he  must  wait.  And,  in 
truth,  he  was  nothing  loath  to  do  so,  for  his 
news  he  cared  little  to  deliver,  important 
though  it  was  that  she  should  have  it  prompt- 
ly and  act  upon  it  soon.  He  turned  away 
with  a  feeling  of  relief,  however,  for  this 
gossip  with  the  Huguenot  maid  would  no 
doubt  interest  her,  give  new  direction  to  her 
warm  sympathies,  which,  if  roused  in  one 
thing,  were  ever  more  easily  roused  in  others. 
He  knew  that  a  crisis  was  nearing  in  the 
royal  relations  with  Leicester.  In  a  life  of 
devotion  to  her  service  he  had  seen  her  be- 
fore in  this  strange  mood,  and  he  could  feel 
that  she  was  ready  for  an  outburst  As  he 
130 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

thought  of  De  la  Foret  and  the  favor  with 
which  she  had  looked  at  him,  he  smiled  grim- 
ly, for,  if  it  meant  aught,  it  meant  that  it 
would  drive  Leicester  to  some  act  which 
would  hasten  his  own  doom;  though,  indeed, 
it  might  also  make  another  path  more  diffi- 
cult for  himself,  for  the  Parliament,  for  the 
people. 

Little  as  Elizabeth  could  endure  tales  of 
love  and  news  of  marriage;  little  as  she  be- 
lieved in  any  vows,  save  those  made  to  her- 
self;  little  as  she  was  inclined  to  adjust  the 
rough  courses  of  true  love,  she  was  the  sur- 
geon to  this  particular  business,  and  she  had 
the  surgeon's  love  of  laying  bare  even  to  her 
own  cynicism  the  hurt  of  the  poor  patient 
under  her  knife.  Indeed,  so  had  Angele  im- 
pressed her  that  for  once  she  thought  she 
might  hear  the  truth.  Because  she  saw  the 
awe  in  the  other's  face,  and  a  worshipping 
admiration  of  the  great  protectress  of  Prot- 
estanism,  who  had  by  large  gifts  of  men  and 
money  in  times  past  helped  the  cause,  she 
looked  upon  her  here  with  kindness. 

"Speak  now,  mistress  fugitive,  and  I  will 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

listen, "-she  added,  as  Cecil  withdrew;  and 
she  made  a  motion  to  musicians  in  a  distant 
gallery. 

Angele's  heart  fluttered  to  her  mouth, 
but  the  soft,  simple  music  helped  her,  and 
she  began  with  eyes  bent  upon  the  ground, 
her  linked  fingers  clasping  and  unclasping 
slowly. 

"  I  was  born  at  Rouen,  your  high  Majesty," 
she  said.  "My  mother  was  a  cousin  of  the 
Prince  of  Passy,  the  great  Protestant — 

"Of  Passy — ah!"  said  Elizabeth,  amazed. 
"Then  you  are  Protestants  indeed;  and  your 
face  is  no  invention,  but  cometh  honestly. 
No,  no,  'tis  no  accident — God  rest  his  soul, 
great  Passy!" 

"  She  died- — my  mother — when  I  was  a  lit- 
tle child.  I  can  but  just  remember  her — so 
brightly  quiet,  so  quick,  so  beautiful.  In 
Rouen  life  had  little  motion;  but  now  and 
then  came  stir  and  turmoil,  for  war  sent  its 
message  into  the  old  streets,  and  our  captains 
and  our  peasants  poured  forth  to  fight  for 
the  King.  Once  came  the  King  and  Queen 
— Francis  and  Mary — " 
132 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Elizabeth  drew  herself  upright  with  an  ex- 
clamation. 

"Ah,  you  have  seen  her — Mary  of  Scots," 
she  said,  sharply.  "You  have  seen  her?" 

"As  near  as  I  might  touch  her  with  my 
hand,  as  near  as  is  your  high  Majesty.  She 
spoke  to  me — my  mother's  father  was  in  her 
train ;  as  yet  we  had  not  become  Huguenots, 
nor  did  we  know  her  Majesty  as  now  the 
world  knows.  Then  came  the  King  and 
Queen,  and  that  was  the  beginning." 

She  paused,  and  looked  shyly  at  Elizabeth, 
as  though  she  found  it  hard  to  tell  her  story. 

"And  the  beginning,  it  was — ?"  said 
Elizabeth,  impatient  and  intent. 

"  We  went  to  court.  The  Queen  called  my 
mother  into  her  train.  But  it  was  in  no  wise 
for  our  good.  At  court  my  mother  pined 
away— and  so  she  died  in  durance." 

"Wherefore  in  durance?" 

"To  what  she  saw  she  would  not  shut  her 
eyes;  to  what  she  heard  she  would  not  close 
her  soul ;  what  was  required  of  her  she  would 
not  do." 

"  She  would  not  obey  the  Queen?" 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"She  could  not  obey  those  whom  the 
Queen  favored.  Then  the  tyranny  that  broke 
her  heart— 

The  Queen  interrupted  her. 

"  In  very  truth,  but  'tis  not  in  France  alone 
that  Queen's  favorites  grasp  the  sceptre  and 
speak  the  word.  Hath  a  queen  a  thousand 
eyes — can  she  know  truth  where  most  dis- 
semble?" 

"There  was  a  man — he  could  not  know 
there  was  one  true  woman  there,  who  for  her 
daughter's  sake,  for  her  desired  advance- 
ment, and  because  she  was  cousin  of  Passy, 
who  urged  it,  lived  that  starved  life;  this 
man,  this  prince,  drew  round  her  feet  snares, 
set  pitfalls  for  her  while  my  father  was  sent 
upon  a  mission.  Steadfast  she  kept  her  soul 
unspotted;  but  it  wore  away  her  life.  The 
Queen  would  not  permit  return  to  Rouen — 
who  can  tell  what  tale  was  told  her  by  one 
whom  she  foiled?  And  so  she  stayed.  In 
this  slow,  savage  persecution,  when  she  was 
like  a  bird  that,  thinking  it  is  free,  flieth 
against  the  window-pane  and  falleth  back 
beaten,  so  did  she  stay,  and  none  could  save 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

her.  To  cry  out,  to  throw  herself  upon  the 
spears,  would  have  been  ruin  of  herself,  her 
husband,  and  her  child;  and  for  these  she 
lived." 

Elizabeth's  eyes  had  kindled.  Perhaps 
never  in  her  life  had  the  life  at  court  been  so 
exposed  to  her.  The  simple  words,  meant 
but  to  convey  the  story,  and  with  no  thought 
behind,  had  thrown  a  light  on  her  own  court, 
on  her  own  position.  Adept  in  weaving  a 
sinuous  course  in  her  policy,  in  making  mazes 
for  others  to  tread,  the  mazes  which  they  in 
turn  prepared  had  never  before  been  traced 
beneath  her  eyes  to  the  same  vivid  and  ul- 
timate effect. 

"  Help  me,  ye  saints,  but  things  are  not  at 
such  a  pass  in  this  place!"  she  said,  abruptly, 
but  with  weariness  in  her  voice.  "  Yet  some- 
times I  know  not.  The  court  is  a  city  by 
itself,  walled  and  moated,  and  hath  a  life  all 
its  own.  '//  there  be  found  ten  honest  men 
within  the  city,  yet  will  I  save  it,'  saith  the 
Lord.  By  my  father's  head,  I  would  not 
risk  a  finger  on  the  hazard  if  this  city,  this 
court  of  Elizabeth,  were  set  'twixt  the  fire 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

from  heaven  and  eternal  peace.  In  truth, 
child,  I  would  lay  me  down  and  die  in  black 
disgust  were  it  not  that  one  might  come 
hereafter  would  make  a  very  Sodom  or 
Gomorrah  of  this  land ;  and  out  yonder — out 
in  all  my  counties,  where  the  truth  of  Eng- 
land is  among  my  poor  burgesses,  who  die 
for  the  great  causes  which  my  nobles  pro- 
fess but  risk  not  their  lives — out  yonder  all 
that  they  have  won,  and  for  which  I  have 
striven,  would  be  lost.  .  .  .  Speak  on.  I  have 
not  heard  so  plain  a  tongue  and  so  little  guile 
these  twenty  years." 

Angele  continued,  more  courage  in  her 
voice:  "In  the  midst  of  it  all  came  the 
wave  of  the  new  faith  upon  my  mother. 
And  before  ill  could  fall  upon  her  from  her 
foes,  she  died,  and  was  at  rest.  Then  we 
returned  to  Rouen,  my  father  and  I,  and 
there  we  lived  in  peril,  but  in  great  happi- 
ness of  soul,  until  the  day  of  massacre.  That 
night  in  Paris  we  were  given  greatly  of  the 
mercy  of  God." 

"You  were  there — you  were  in  the  mas- 
sacre at  Paris?" 

136 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  In  the  house  of  the  Duke  of  Lancon,  with 
whom  was  resting,  after  a  hazardous  enter- 
prise, Michel  de  la  Foret." 

"And  here  beginneth  the  second  lesson," 
said  the  Queen,  with  a  smile  on  her  lips ;  but 
there  was  a  look  of  scrutiny  in  her  eyes  and 
something  like  irony  in  her  tone.  "And  I 
will  swear  by  all  the  stars  of  heaven  that  this 
Michel  saved  ye  both.  Is  it  not  so?" 

"It  is  even  so.  By  his  skill  and  bravery 
we  found  our  way  to  safety,  and  in  a  hiding- 
place  near  to  our  loved  Rouen  watched  him 
return  from  the  gates  of  death." 

"He  was  wounded,  then?" 

"Seven  times  wounded,  and  with  as  little 
blood  left  in  him  as  would  fill  a  cup.  But 
it  was  summer,  and  we  were  in  the  hills,  and 
they  brought  us,  our  friends  of  Rouen,  all 
that  we  had  need  of;  and  so  God  was  with 
us." 

"  But  did  he  save  thy  life,  except  by  skill, 
by  indirect  and  fortunate  wisdom?  Was 
there  deadly  danger  upon  thee  ?  Did  he  beat 
down  the  sword  of  death?" 

"He  saved  my  life  thrice  directly.    The 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

wounds  he  carried  were  got  by  interposing 
his  own  sword  'twixt  death  and  me." 

"And  that  hath  need  of  recompense?" 

"My  life  was  little  worth  the  wounds  he 
suffered;  but  I  waited  not  until  he  saved  it 
to  owe  it  unto  him.  All  that  it  is  was  his 
before  he  drew  his  sword." 

"And  'tis  this  ye  would  call  love  betwixt 
ye — sweet  givings  and  takings  of  looks,  and 
soft  sayings,  and  unchangeable  and  devour- 
ing faith.  Is't  this — and  is  this  all?" 

The  girl  had  spoken  out  of  an  innocent 
heart,  but  the  challenge  in  the  Queen's  voice 
worked  upon  her,  and,  though  she  shrank  a 
little,  the  fulness  of  her  soul  welled  up  and 
strengthened  her.  She  spoke  again,  and 
now  in  her  need  and  in  her  will  to  save  the 
man  she  loved,  by  making  this  majesty  of 
England  his  protector,  her  words  had  elo- 
quence. 

"  It  is  not  all,  noble  Queen.  Love  is  more 
than  that.  It  is  the  waking  in  the  poorest 
minds,  in  the  most  barren  souls,  of  something 
greater  than  themselves — as  a  chemist  should 
find  a  substance  that  would  give  all  other 

138 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

things- by  touching  of  them  a  new  and  higher 
value ;  as  light  and  sun  draw  from  the  earth 
the  tendrils  of  the  seed  that  else  had  lain 
unproducing.  Tis  not  alone  soft  words  and 
touch  of  hand  or  lip.  This  caring  wholly  for 
one  outside  one's  self  kills  that  self  which  else 
would  make  the  world  blind  and  deaf  and 
dumb.  None  hath  loved  greatly  but  hath 
helped  to  love  in  others.  Ah,  most  sweet 
Majesty,  for  great  souls  like  thine,  souls  born 
great,  this  medicine  is  not  needful,  for  al- 
ready hath  the  love  of  a  nation  inspired  and 
enlarged  it ;  but  for  souls  like  mine,  and  of  so 
many,  none  better  and  none  worse  than  me, 
to  love  one  other  soul  deeply  and  abidingly 
lifts  us  higher  than  ourselves.  Your  Majesty 
hath  been  loved  by  a  whole  people,  by  princes 
and  great  men  in  a  different  sort — is  it  not  the 
world's  talk  that  none  that  ever  reigned  hath 
drawn  such  slavery  of  princes,  and  of  great 
nobles  who  have  courted  death  for  hopeless 
love  of  one  beyond  their  star  ?  And  is  it  not 
written  in  the  world's  book  also  that  the 
Queen  of  England  hath  loved  no  man,  but 
hath  poured  out  her  heart  to  a  people;  and 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

hath  served  great  causes  in  all  the  earth 
because  of  that  love  which  hath  still  enlarged 
her  soul,  dowered  at  birth  beyond  reckon- 
ing." Tears  filled  her  eyes.  "Ah,  your  su- 
preme Majesty,  to  you  whose  heart  is  uni- 
versal, the  love  of  one  poor  mortal  seemeth 
a  small  -thing,  but  to  those  of  little  conse- 
quence i«t  is  the  cable  by  which  they  unstead- 
ily hold  over  the  chasm  'twixt  life  and  im- 
mortality. To  thee,  oh  greatest  monarch  of 
the  world,  it  is  a  staff  on  which  thou  needest 
not  lean,  which  thou  hast  never  grasped ;  to 
me  it  is  my  all;  without  it  I  fail  and  fall 
and  die." 

She  had  spoken  as  she  felt,  yet,  because 
she  was  a  woman  and  guessed  the  mind  of 
another  woman,  she  had  touched  Elizabeth 
where  her  armor  was  weakest.  She  had 
suggested  that  the  Queen  had  been  the  ob- 
ject of  adoration,  but  had  never  given  her 
heart  to  any  man;  that  hers  was  the  virgin 
heart  and  life ;  and  that  she  had  never  stoop- 
ed to  conquer.  Without  realizing  it,  and 
only  dimly  moving  with  that  end  in  view,  she 
had  whetted  Elizabeth's  vanity.  She  had, 
140 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

indeed,  soothed  a  pride  wounded  of  late 
beyond  endurance,  suspecting,  as  she  did, 
that  Leicester  had  played  his  long  part  for 
his  own  sordid  purposes,  that  his  devotion 
was  more  alloy  than  precious  metal.  No 
note  of  praise  could  be  pitched  too  high  for 
Elizabeth,  and  if  only  policy  did  not  inter- 
vene, if  but  no  political  advantage  was  lost 
by  saving  De  la  Foret,  that  safety  seemed 
now  secure. 

"You  tell  a  tale  and  adorn  it  with  good 
grace,"  she  said,  and  held  out  her  hand. 
Angele  kissed  it.  "And  you  have  said  to 
Elizabeth  what  none  else  dared  to  say  since 
I  was  Queen  here.  He  who  hath  never  seen 
the  lightning  hath  no  dread  of  it.  I  had 
not  thought  there  was  in  the  world  so  much 
artlessness,  with  all  the  power  of  perfect  art. 
But  we  live  to  be  wiser.  Thou  shalt  con- 
tinue in  thy  tale.  Thou  hast  seen  Mary, 
once  Queen  of  France,  now  Queen  of  Scots — 
answer  me  fairly,  without  if,  or  though,  or 
any  sort  of  doubt,  the  questions  I  shall  put. 
Which  of  us  twain,  this  ruin-starred  Queen 
or  I,  is  of  higher  stature?" 
141 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"She  hath  advantage  in  little  of  your 
Majesty,"  bravely  answered  Angele. 

"Then,"  answered  Elizabeth,  sourly,  "she 
is  too  high,  for  I,  myself,  am  neither  too  high 
nor  too  low.  .  .  .  And  of  complexion,  which 
is  the  fairer?" 

"  Her  complexion  is  the  fairer,  but  your 
Majesty's  countenance  hath  truer  beauty 
and  sweeter  majesty." 

Elizabeth  frowned  slightly,  then  said: 

"What  exercises  did  she  take  when  you 
were  at  the  court?" 

"  Sometimes  she  hunted,  your  Majesty,  and 
sometimes  she  played  upon  the  virginals." 

"  Did  she  play  to  effect?" 

"  Reasonably,  your  noble  Majesty." 

"You  shall  hear  me  play,  and  then  speak 
truth  upon  us,  for  I  have  known  none  with 
so  true  a  tongue  since  my  father  died." 

Thereon  she  called  to  a  lady  who  waited 
near  in  a  little  room  to  bring  an  instrument ; 
but  at  that  moment  Cecil  appeared  again  at 
the  door,  and,  his  face  seeming  to  show  anx- 
iety, Elizabeth,  with  a  sign,  beckoned  him  to 
enter. 

142 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"Your  face,  Cecil,  is  as  long  as  a  Lenten 
collect.  What  raven  croaks  in  England  on 
May  Day  eve?" 

Cecil  knelt  before  her,  and  gave  into  her 
hand  a  paper. 

"  What  rec  )rd  runs  here  ?"  she  asked,  quer- 
ulously. 

"  A  prayer  of  your  faithful  Lords  and  Com- 
mons that  your  Majesty  will  grant  speech 
with  their  chosen  deputies  to  lay  before  your 
Majesty  a  cause  they  have  at  heart." 

"  Touching  of — ?"  darkly  asked  the  Queen. 

"The  deputies  wait  even  now — will  not 
your  Majesty  receive  them?  They  have 
come  humbly,  and  will  go  hence  as  humbly 
on  the  instant,  if  the  hour  is  ill  chosen." 

Immediately  Elizabeth's  humor  changed. 
A  look  of  passion  swept  across  her  face,  but 
her  eyes  lighted  and  her  lips  smiled  proudly. 
She  avoided  troubles  by  every  means,  fought 
off  by  subtleties  the  issues  which  she  must 
meet;  but  when  the  inevitable  hour  came 
none  knew  so  well  to  meet  it  as  though  it 
were  a  dearest  friend,  no  matter  what  the 
danger,  how  great  the  stake. 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"They  are  here  at  my  door,  these  good 
servants  of  the  state — shall  they  be  kept 
dangling?"  she  said,  loudly.  "Though  it 
were  time  for  prayers  and  God's  mercy,  yet 
should  they  speak  with  me,  have  my  counsel, 
or  my  hand  upon  the  sacred  parchment  of  the 
state.  Bring  them  hither,  Cecil.  Now  we 
shall  see —  Now  you  shall  see,  Angele  of 
Rouen — now  you  shall  see  how  queens  shall 
have  no  hearts  to  call  their  own,  but  be  head 
and  heart  and  soul  and  body  at  the. will  of 
every  churl  who  thinks  he  serves  the  state 
and  knows  the  will  of  Heaven.  Stand  here 
at  my  left  hand.  Mark  the  players  and  the 
play." 

Kneeling,  the  deputies  presented  a  reso- 
lution from  the  Lords  and  Commons  that  the 
Queen  should,  without  more  delay,  in  keep- 
ing with  her  oft-expressed  resolve  and  the 
promise  of  her  council,  appoint  one  who 
should  succeed  to  the  throne  in  case  of  her 
death  "without  posterity."  Her  faithful 
people  pleaded  with  her  gracious  Majesty  to 
forego  unwillingness  to  marry,  and  seek  a 
consort  worthy  of  her  supreme  consideration, 
144 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

to  be  raised  to  a  place  beside  her  near  that 
throne  which  she  had  made  the  greatest  in 
the  world. 

Gravely,  solemnly,  the  chief  members  of 
the  Lords  and  Commons  spoke,  and  with  as 
weighty  pauses  and  devoted  protestations  as 
though  this  were  the  first  time  their  plea  had 
been  urged,  this  obvious  duty  had  been  set 
out  before  her.  Long  ago,  in  the  flush  and 
pride  of  her  extreme  youth  and  the  full  as- 
surance of  the  fruits  of  marriage,  they  had 
spoken  with  the  same  sotjer  responsibility; 
and  though  her  youth  had  gone  and  the 
old  certainty  had  forever  disappeared,  they 
spoke  of  her  marriage  and  its  consequences 
as  though  it  were  still  that  far-off  yesterday. 
Well  for  them  that  they  did  so,  for  though 
time  had  flown  and  royal  suitors  without 
number  had  become  figures  dim  in  the  peo- 
ple's mind,  Elizabeth,  fed  upon  adulation, 
invoked,  admired,  besieged  by  young  court- 
iers, flattered  by  maids  who  praised  her 
beauty,  had  never  seen  the  hands  of  the  clock 
pass  high  noon,  and  still  remained  under  the 
dearest  and  saddest  illusion  which  can  rest 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

in  a  woman's  mind.  Long  after  the  hands 
of  life's  clock  had  moved  into  afternoon,  the 
ancient  prayer  was  still  gravely  presented  that 
she  should  marry  and  give  an  heir  to  Eng- 
land's crown;  and  she  as  solemnly  listened 
and  dropped  her  eyes,  and  strove  to  hide 
her  virgin  modesty  behind  a  high  demeanor 
which  must  needs  sink  self  in  royal  duty. 

"These  be  the  dear  desires  of  your  su- 
preme Majesty's  faithful  Lords  and  Commons 
and  the  people  of  the  shires  whose  wills  they 
represent.  Your  Majesty's  life,  God  grant 
it  last  beyond  that  of  the  youngest  of  your 
people  so  greatly  blessed  in  your  rule!  But 
accidents  of  time  be  many;  and  while  the 
world  is  full  of  guile,  none  can  tell  what 
peril  may  beset  the  crown,  if  your  Majesty's 
wisdom  sets  not  apart,  gives  not  to  her  coun- 
try, one  whom  the  nation  can  surround  with 
its  care,  encompass  lovingly  by  its  duty." 

The  talk  with  Angele  had  had  a  curious 
influence  upon  the  Queen.  It  was  plain  that 
now  she  was  moved  by  real  feeling,  and  that, 
though  she  deceived  herself,  or  pretended  so 
to  do,  shutting  her  eyes  to  sober  facts  and 
146 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

dreaming  old  dreams — as  it  were,  in  a  world 
where  never  was  a  mirror  nor  a  timepiece — 
yet  there  was  working  in  her  a  fresher  spirit, 
urging  her  to  a  fairer  course  than  she  had 
shaped  for  many  a  day. 

"  My  lords  and  gentlemen,  and  my  beloved 
subjects,"  she  answered  presently,  and  for 
an  instant  set  her  eyes  upon  Angele,  then 
turned  to  them  again,  "  I  pray  you  stand 
and  hear  me.  .  .  .  Ye  have  spoken  fair  words 
to  my  face,  and  of  my  face,  and  of  the  person 
of  this  daughter  of  great  Henry,  from  whom 
I  got  whatever  grace  or  manner  or  favor  is 
to  me ;  and  by  all  your  reasoning  you  do  flat- 
ter the  heart  of  the  Queen  of  England,  whose 
mind  indeed  sleeps  not  in  deed  or  desire  for 
this  realm.  Ye  have  drawn  a  fair  picture  of 
this  mortal  me,  and  though  from  the  grace 
of  the  picture  the  colors  may  fade  by  time, 
may  give  by  weather,  may  be  spoiled  by 
chance,  yet  my  loyal  mind,  nor  time  with 
her  swift  wings  shall  overtake,  nor  the  misty 
clouds  may  darken,  nor  chance  with  her  slip- 
pery foot  may  overthrow.  It  sets  its  course 
by  the  heart  of  England,  and  when  it  passeth 
M7 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

there  shall  be  found  that  one  shall  be  left 
behind  who  shall  be  surety  of  all  that  hath 
been  lying  in  the  dim  warehouse  of  fate  for 
England's  high  future.  Be  sure  that  in  this 
thing  I  have  entered  into  the  weigh-house, 
and  I  hold  the  balance,  and  ye  shal'l  be  well 
satisfied.  Ye  have  been  fruitful  in  counsel, 
ye  have  been  long  knitting  a  knot  never  tied, 
ye  shall  have  comfont  soon.  But  know  ye 
beyond  peradventure  that  I  have  bided  my 
time  with  good  reason.  If  our  loom  be 
framed  with  rotten  hurdles,  when  our  web 
is  wellny  done,  our  work  is  yet  to  begin. 
Against  mischance  and  dark  discoveries  my 
mind,  with  knowledge  hidden  from  you,  hath 
been  firmly  arrayed.  If  it  be  in  your  thought 
that  I  am  set  against  a  marriage  which  shall 
serve  the  nation,  purge  yourselves,  friends, 
of  that  sort  of  heresy,  for  the  belief  is  awry. 
Though  I  think  that  to  be  one  and  always 
one,  neither  mated  nor  mothering,  be  good 
for  a  private  woman,  for  a  prince  it  is  not 
meet.  Therefore,  say  to  my  Lords  and  Com- 
mons that  I  am  more  concerned  f-or  what 
shall  chance  to  England  when  I  am  gone 
148 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

than  to  linger  out  my  living  thread.  I  hope, 
my  lords  and  gentlemen,  to  die  with  a  good 
'  Nunc  Dimittis,'  which  could  not  be  if  I  did 
not  give  surety  for  the  nation  after  my  graved 
bones.  Ye  shall  hear  soon — ye  shall  hear 
and  be  satisfied,  and  so  I  give  you  to  the 
care  of  Almighty  God." 

Once  more  they  knelt,  and  then  slowly 
withdrew,  with  faces  downcast  and  troubled. 
They  had  secret  knowledge  which  she  did 
not  yet  possess,  but  which  at  any  moment 
she  must  know,  and  her  ambiguous  speech 
carried  no  conviction  to  their  minds.  Yet 
their  conference  with  her  was  most  oppor- 
tune, for  the  news  she  must  presently  receive, 
brought  by  a  messenger  from  Scotland  who 
had  outstripped  all  others,  would  no  doubt 
move  her  to  action  which  should  set  the 
minds  of  the  people  at  rest,  and  go  far  to 
stem  the  tide  of  conspiracy  flowing  through 
the  kingdom. 

Elizabeth  stood  watching  them,  and  re- 
mained gazing  after  they  had  disappeared; 
then,  rousing  herself,  she  turned  to  leave  the 
room,  and  beckoned  to  Angele  to  follow. 
ii  149 


XII 


S  twilight  was  giving  place 
to  night  Angele  was  roused 
from  the  revery  into  which 
she  had  fallen,  by  the 
Duke's  Daughter,  who 
whispered  to  her  that  if  she 
would  have  a  pleasure  given  to  but  few,  she 
would  come  quickly.  Taking  her  hand,  the 
Duke's  Daughter — as  bright  and  true  and 
whimsical  a  spirit  as  ever  lived  in  troubled 
days  and  under  the  aegis  of  the  sword — led 
her  swiftly  to  the  Queen's  chamber.  They 
did  not  enter,  but  waited  in  a  quiet  gallery. 
"The  Queen  is  playing  upon  the  virginals, 
and  she  playeth  best  when  alone;  so  stand 
you  here  by  this  tapestry,  and  you  shall  have 
reward  beyond  payment,"  said  the  Duke's 
Daughter. 

Angele  had  no  thought  that  the  Queen  of 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

her  vanity  had  commanded  that  she  be 
placed  there  as  though  secretly,  and  she  lis- 
tened dutifully  at  first ;  but  presently  her  ears 
were  ravished ;  and  even  the  Duke's  Daughter 
showed  some  surprise,  for  never  had  she 
heard  the  Queen  play  with  such  grace  and 
feeling.  The  countenance  of  the  musician 
was  towards  them,  and,  at  last,  as  if  by  ac- 
cident, Elizabeth  looked  up  and  saw  the  face 
of  her  lady. 

"Spy!  spy!"  she  cried;  "come  hither — 
come  hither,  all  of  you!" 

When  they  had  descended  and  knelt  to 
her,  she  made  as  if  she  would  punish  the 
Duke's  Daughter  by  striking  her  with  a  scarf 
that  lay  at  her  hand,  but  to  Angele  she  said : 

"How  think  you,  then,  hath  that  other 
greater  skill — Darnley's  wife,  I  mean?" 

"Not  she  or  any  other  hath  so  delighted 
me,"  said  Angele,  with  worship  in  her  eyes 
— so  doth  talent  to  majesty  become  lifted 
beyond  its  measure. 

The  Queen's  eyes  lighted.  "We  shall 
have  dancing,  then,"  she  said.  "The  dance 
hath  charms  for  me.  We  shall  not  deny  our 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

youth.  The  heart  shall  keep  as  young  as  the 
body." 

An  instant  later  the  room  was  full  of 
dancers,  and  Elizabeth  gave  her  hand  to 
Leicester,  who  bent  every  faculty  to  pleasing 
her.  His  face  had  darkened  as  he  had  seen 
Angele  beside  her,  but  the  Queen's  gracious- 
ness,  whether  assumed  or  real,  had  returned, 
and  her  face  carried  a  look  of  triumph  and 
spirit  and  delight.  Again  and  again  she 
glanced  towards  Angele,  and  what  she  saw 
evidently  gave  her  pleasure,  for  she  laughed 
and  disported  herself  with  grace  and  an 
agreeable  temper,  and  Leicester  lent  him- 
self to  her  spirit  with  adroit  wit  and  humil- 
ity. He  had  seen  his  mistake  of  the  morn- 
ing, and  was  now  intent  to  restore  himself 
to  favor. 

He  succeeded  well,  for  the  emotions  roused 
in  Elizabeth  during  the  day,  now  heightened 
by  vanity  and  emulation,  found  in  him  a 
centre  upon  which  they  could  converge ;  and, 
in  her  mind,  Angele,  for  the  nonce,  was  dis- 
associated from  any  thought  of  De  la  Foret. 
Leicester's  undoubted  gifts  were  well  and 
152 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

cautiously  directed,  and  his  gift  of  assumed 
passion — his  heart  was  facile,  and  his  gal- 
lantry knew  no  bounds — was  put  to  dexter- 
ous use,  convincing  for  the  moment.  The 
Queen  seemed  all  complaisance  again.  Pres- 
ently she  had  Angele  brought  to  her. 

"  How  doth  her  dance  compare — she  who 
hath  wedded  Darnley?" 

"  She  danceth  not  so  high  nor  disposedly, 
with  no  such  joyous  lightness  as  your  high 
Majesty,  but  yet  she  moveth  with  circum- 
spection." 

"  Circumspection — circumspection — that  is 
no  gift  in  dancing,  which  should  be  wilful 
yet  airily  composed,  thoughtless  yet  inducing. 
Circumspection! — in  nothing  else  hath  Mary 
shown  it  where  she  should.  Tis  like  this 
Queen  perversely  to  make  a  psalm  of  danc- 
kig,  and  then  pirouette  with  sacred  duty. 
But  you  have  spoken  the  truth,  and  I  am 
well  content.  So  get  you  to  your  rest." 

She  tapped  Angele's  cheek.  "You  shall 
remain  here  to-night,  'tis  too  late  for  you  to 
be  sent  abroad." 

She  was  about  to  dismiss  her,  when  there 
153 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

was  a  sudden  stir.  Cecil  had  entered  and 
was  making  his  way  to  the  Queen,  followed 
by  two  strangers.  Elizabeth  waited  their 
approach. 

"Your  gracious  Majesty,"  said  Cecil,  in  a 
voice  none  heard  save  Elizabeth,  for  all 
had  fallen  back  at  a  wave  of  her  hand, 
"the  Queen  of  Scots  is  the  mother  of  a  fair 
son." 

Elizabeth's  face  flushed,  then  became  pale, 
and  she  struck  her  knee  with  her  clinched 
hand.  "Who  bringeth  the  news?"  she  in- 
quired, in  a  sharp  voice. 

"  Sir  Andrew  Melvill  here." 

"Who  is  with  him  yonder?" 

"  One  who  hath  been  attached  to  the 
Queen  of  Scots." 

"  He  hath  the  ill  look  of  such  an  one,"  she 
answered,  and  then  said  below  her  breath, 
bitterly:  "She  hath  a  son — and  I  am  but  a 
barren  stock." 

Rising,  she  added,  hurriedly,  "We  will 
speak  to  the  people  at  the  May  Day  sports 
to-morrow.  Let  there  be  great  feasting." 

She  motioned   to   Sir  Andrew  Melvill  to 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

come  forward,  and  with  a  gesture  of  welcome 
and  a  promise  of  speech  with  him  on  the 
morrow  she  dismissed  them. 

Since  the  two  strangers  had  entered, 
Angele's  eyes  had  been  fastened  on  the  gen- 
tleman who  accompanied  Sir  Andrew  Mel- 
vill.  Her  first  glance  at  him  had  sent  a  chill 
through  her,  and  she  remained  confused  and 
disturbed.  In  vain  her  memory  strove  to 
find  where  the  man  was  set  in  her  past.  The 
time,  the  place,  the  event  eluded  her,  but  a 
sense  of  foreboding  possessed  her;  and  her 
eyes  followed  him  with  strained  anxiety  as 
he  retired  from  the  presence. 


XIII 


S  had  been  arranged  when 
Lempriere  challenged  Lei- 
cester, they  met  soon  after 
dawn  among  the  trees  be- 
side the  Thames.  A  gentle- 
man of  the  court,  to  whom 
the  Duke's  Daughter  had  previously  pre- 
sented Lempriere,  gayly  agreed  to  act  as  sec- 
ond, and  gallantly  attended  the  Lord  of  Rozel 
in  his  adventurous  enterprise.  There  were 
few  at  court  who  had  not  some  grudge  against 
Leicester,  few  who  would  not  willingly  have 
done  duty  at  such  a  time;  for  Leicester's 
friends  were  of  fair-weather  sort,  ready  to 
defend  him,  to  support  him,  not  for  friend- 
ship, but  for  the  crumbs  that  dropped  from 
the  table  of  his  power.  The  favorite  himself 
was  attended  by  the  Earl  of  Baling,  a  young- 
ster who  had  his  spurs  to  win,  who  thought 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

it  policy  to  serve  the  great  time-server.  Two 
others  also  came. 

It  was  a  morning  little  made  for  deeds  of 
rancor  or  of  blood.  As  they  passed,  the  early 
morning  mists  above  the  green  fields  of  Kent 
and  Essex  were  being  melted  by  the  summer 
sun.  The  smell  of  ripening  fruit  came  on 
them  with  pungent  sweetness,  their  feet 
crashed  odorously  through  clumps  of  tiger- 
lilies,  and  the  dew  on  the  ribbon-grass  shook 
glistening  drops  upon  their  velvets.  Over- 
head the  carolling  of  the  thrush  came  swim- 
ming recklessly  through  the  trees,  and  far 
over  in  the  fields  the  ploughmen  started  upon 
the  heavy  courses  of  their  labor;  while  here 
and  there  a  poacher  with  bow  and  arrow 
slid  through  the  green  undergrowth,  like 
spies  hovering  on  an  army's  flank. 

To  Lempriere  the  morning  carried  no  im- 
pression save  that  life  was  well  worth  living. 
No  agitation  passed  across  his  nerves,  no 
apprehension  reached  his  mind.  He  had  no 
imagination;  he  loved  the  things  that  his 
eyes  saw  because  they  filled  him  with  enjoy- 
ment; but  why  they  were,  or  whence  they 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

came,  or  what  they  meant  or  boded,  never 
gave  him  meditation.  A  vast  epicurean,  a 
consummate  egotist,  ripe  with  feeling  and 
rich  with  energy,  he  could  not  believe  that 
when  he  spoke  the  heavens  would  not  fall. 
The  stinging  sweetness  of  the  morning  was 
a  tonic  to  all  his  energies,  an  elation  to  his 
mind ;  he  swaggered  through  the  lush  grasses 
and  boskage  as  though  marching  to  a  mar- 
riage. 

Leicester,  on  his  part,  no  more  caught  at 
the  meaning  of  the  morning,  at  the  long 
whisper  of  enlivened  nature,  than  did  his  foe. 
The  day  gave  to  him  no  more  than  was  his 
right.  If  the  day  was  not  fine,  then  Leices- 
ter was  injured;  but  if  the  day  was  fine,  then 
Leicester  had  his  due.  Moral  blindness 
made  him  blind  for  the  million  deep  teachings 
trembling  round  him.  He  felt  only  the  garish 
and  the  splendid.  So  it  was  that  at  Kenil- 
worth,  where  his  Queen  had  visited  him,  the 
fetes  that  he  had  held  would  far  outshine  the 
fe*te  which  would  take  place  in  Greenwich 
Park  on  this  May  Day.  The  f6te  of  this 
May  Day  would  take  place,  but  would  he 
158 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

see  it?  The  thought  flashed  through  his 
mind  that  he  might  not ;  but  he  trod  it  under- 
foot; not  through  an  inborn,  primitive  ego- 
tism like  that  of  Lempriere,  but  through  an 
innate  arrogance,  an  unalterable  belief  that 
fate  was  ever  on  his  side.  He  had  played 
so  many  tricks  with  fate,  had  mocked  while 
taking  its  gifts  so  often,  that,  like  the  son 
who  has  flouted  his  indulgent  father  through 
innumerable  times,  he  conceived  that  he 
should  never  be  disinherited.  It  irked  him 
that  he  should  be  fighting  with  a  farmer,  as 
he  termed  the  seigneur  of  the  Jersey  isle; 
but  there  was  in  the  event,  too,  a  sense  of 
relief,  for  he  had  a  will  for  murder.  Yester- 
day's events  were  still  fresh  in  his  mind ;  and 
he  had  a  feeling  that  the  letting  of  Lem- 
priere's  blood  would  cool  his  own  and  be 
some  cure  for  the  choler  which  the  presence 
of  these  strangers  at  the  court  had  wrought 
in  him. 

There  were  better  swordsmen  in  England 

than  he,  but  his  skill  was  various,  and  he 

knew  tricks  of  the  trade  which  this  primitive 

Norman  could  never  have  learned.     He  had 

159 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

some  touch  of  wit,  some  biting  observation, 
and,  as  he  neared  the  place  of  the  encounter, 
he  played  upon  the  coming  event  with  a  mor- 
dant frivolity.  Not  by  nature  a  brave  man, 
he  was  so  much  a  fatalist,  such  a  worshipper 
of  his  star,  that  he  had  acquired  an  artificial 
courage  which  had  served  him  well.  The 
unschooled  gentlemen  with  him  roared  with 
laughter  at  his  sallies,  and  they  came  to  the 
place  of  meeting  as  though  to  a  summer 
feast. 

"Good-morrow,  nobility,"  said  Leicester, 
with  courtesy  overdone,  and  bowing  much 
too  low. 

"  Good-morrow,  valentine, "answered  Lem- 
priere,  flushing  slightly  at  the  disguised  in- 
sult and  rising  to  the  moment. 

"  I  hear  the  crop  of  fools  is  short  this  year 
in  Jersey,  and  through  no  fault  of  yours— 
you've  done  your  best  most  loyally,"  jeered 
Leicester,  as  he  doffed  his  doublet,  his  gen- 
tlemen laughing  in  derision. 

"  "Tis  true  enough,  my  lord,  and  I  have 
come  to  find  new  seed  in  England,  where  are 
fools  to  spare ;  as  I  trust  in  Heaven  one  shall 
1 60 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

be  spared  on  this  very  day  for  planting  yon- 
der." 

He  was  eaten  with  rage,  but  he  was  cool 
and  steady.  He  was  now  in  his  linen  and 
small-clothes,  and  looked  like  some  untrained 
Hercules. 

"Well  said,  nobility,"  laughed  Leicester, 
with  an  ugly  look.  "  "Pis  seed-time — let  us 
measure  out  the  seed.  On  guard!" 

Never  were  two  men  such  opposites,  never 
two  so  seemingly  ill -matched.  Leicester's 
dark  face  and  its  sardonic  look,  his  lithe 
figure,  the  nervous  strength  of  his  bearing, 
were  in  strong  contrast  to  the  bulking 
breadth,  the  perspiring  robustness  of  Lem- 
priere  of  Rozel.  It  was  not  easy  of  belief 
that  Lempriere  should  be  set  to  fight  this 
matadore  of  a  fighting  court.  But  there  they 
stood,  Lempriere's  face  with  a  great -eyed 
gravity  looming  above  his  rotund  figure 
like  a  moon  above  a  purple  cloud.  But  huge 
and  loose  though  the  seigneur's  motions 
seemed,  he  was  as  intent  as  though  there 
were  but  two  beings  in  the  universe,  Lei- 
cester and  himself.  A  strange  alertness 
161 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

seemed  to  be  upon  him,  and,  as  Leicester 
found  when  the  swords  crossed,  he  was  quick- 
er than  his  bulk  gave  warrant.  His  perfect 
health  made  his  vision  sure ;  and,  though  not 
a  fine  swordsman,  he  had  done  much  fight- 
ing in  his  time,  had  been  ever  ready  for  the 
touch  of  steel,  and  had  served  some  warlike 
days  in  fighting  France,  where  fate  had  well 
befriended  him.  That  which  Leicester  meant 
should  be  by-play  of  a  moment  became  a 
full  half-hour's  desperate  game.  Leicester 
found  that  the  thrust — the  fatal  thrust  learn- 
ed from  an  Italian  master — he  meant  to  give 
was  met  by  a  swift  precision,  responding  to 
quick  vision.  Again  and  again  he  would 
have  brought  the  end,  but  Lempriere  heavily 
foiled  him.  The  wound  which  the  seigneur 
got  at  last,  meant  to  be  mortal,  \vas  saved 
from  that  by  the  facility  of  a  quick  appre- 
hension. 

Indeed,  for  a  time  the  issue  had  seemed 
doubtful,  for  the  endurance  and  persistence 
of  the  seigneur  made  for  exasperation  and 
recklessness  in  his  antagonist,  and  once  blood 
was  drawn  from  the  wrist  of  the  great  man ; 
162 


HANG    FAST   TO    YOUR    HONORS    BY   THE    SKIN   OF  YOUR  TEETH, 
MY    LORD*" 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

but  at  length  Lempriere  went  upon  the 
aggressive.  Here  he  erred,  for  Leicester 
found  the  chance  for  which  he  had  ma- 
noeuvred— to  use  the  feint  and  thrust  got  out 
of  Italy.  He  brought  his  enemy  low,  but 
only  after  a  duel  the  like  of  which  had  never 
been  seen  at  the  court  of  England.  The 
matadore  had  slain  his  bull  at  last,  but  had 
done  no  justice  to  his  reputation.  Never 
did  man  more  gallantly  sustain  his  honor 
with  heaviest  odds  against  him  than  did  the 
Seigneur  of  Rozel  that  day. 

As  he  was  carried  away  by  the  merry 
gentlemen  of  the  court,  he  called  back  to  the 
favorite : 

"Leicester  is  not  so  great  a  swordsman, 
after  all.  Hang  fast  to  your  honors  by  the 
skin  of  your  teeth,  my  lord." 


XIV 


T  was  Monday,  and  the 
eyes  of  London  and  the 
court  were  turned  towards 
Greenwich  Park,  where  the 
Queen  was  to  give  enter- 
tainment to  the  French 
envoy  who  had  come  once  more  to  urge 
upon  the  Queen  marriage  with  a  son  of  the 
Medici,  and  to  obtain  an  assurance  that  she 
would  return  to  France  the  widow  of  the 
great  Montgomery  and  his  valiant  lieuten- 
ant, Michel  de  la  Foret.  The  river  was  cov- 
ered with  boats  and  barges,  festooned,  cano- 
pied, and  hung  with  banners  and  devices; 
and  from  sunrise  music  and  singing  con- 
ducted down  the  stream  the  gayly  dressed 
populace — for  those  were  the  days  when  a 
man  spent  on  his  ruff  and  his  hose  and  his 
russet  coat  as  much  as  would  feed  and  house 
164 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

a  family  for  a  year;  when  the  fine-figured 
ruffler  with  sables  about  his  neck,  corked 
slipper,  trimmed  buskin,  and  cloak  of  silk 
or  damask  furred,  carried  his  all  upon  his 
back. 

Loud-voiced  gallants  came  floating  by; 
men  of  a  hundred  guilds  bearing  devices 
pompously  held  on  their  way  to  the  great 
pageant ;  country  bumpkins  up  from  Surrey 
roistered  and  swore  that  there  was  but  one 
land  that  God  had  blessed,  and  challenged 
the  grinning  watermen  from  Gravesend  and 
Hampton  Court  to  deny  it ;  and  the  sun  with 
ardor  drove  from  the  sky  every  invading 
cloud,  leaving  Essex  and  Kent,  as  far  as 
eye  could  see,  perfect  green  gardens  of  opu- 
lence. 

Before  Elizabeth  had  left  her  bed,  Lon- 
don had  emptied  itself  in  Greenwich  Park. 
Thither  the  London  companies  had  come  in 
their  varied  dazzling  accoutrements — hun- 
dreds armed  in  fine  corselets  bearing  the  long 
Moorish  pike;  tall  halberdiers  in  the  unique 
armor  called  Almain-rivets,  and  gunners  or 
muleteers  equipped  in  shirts  of  mail,  with 

ia  165 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

morions  or  steel  caps.  Here,  too,  were  to 
come  the  Gentlemen  Pensioners,  resplendent 
in  scarlet,  to  "  run  with  the  spear  " ;  and  hun- 
dreds of  men-at-arms  were  set  at  every  point 
to  give  garish  bravery  to  all.  Thousands  of 
citizens,  open-mouthed,  gazed  down  the  long 
arenas  of  green  festooned  with  every  sort 
of  decoration  and  picturesque  invention. 
Cages  of  large  birds  from  the  Indies,  fruits, 
corn,  fishes,  grapes  hung  in  the  trees,  play- 
ers perched  in  the  branches  discoursed  sweet 
music,  and  poets  recited  their  verses  from 
rustic  bridges  or  on  platforms  with  weapons 
and  armor  hung  trophywise  on  ragged 
staves.  Upon  a  small  lake  a  dolphin,  four- 
and-twenty  feet  in  length,  came  swimming, 
within  its  belly  a  lively  orchestra;  Italian 
tumblers  swung  from  rope  to  bar ;  and  crowds 
gathered  at  the  places  where  bear  and  bull 
baiting  were  to  excite  the  none  too  fastidious 
tastes  of  the  time. 

All  morning  the  gay  delights  went  on,  and 
at  high  noon  the  cry  was  carried  from  mouth 
to  mouth,  "The  Queen!  The  Queen  I" 

She  appeared  on  a  balcony,  surrounded  by 
166 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

her  lords  and  ladies,  and  there  received  the 
diplomatists,  speaking  at  length  to  the 
French  envoy  in  a  tone  of  lightness  and 
elusive  cheerfulness  which  he  was  at  a  loss 
to  understand,  and  tried  in  vain  to  pierce 
by  cogent  remarks  bearing  on  matters  of 
moment  involved  in  his  embassage.  Not 
far  away  stood  Leicester,  but  the  Queen  had 
done  no  more  than  note  his  presence  by  a 
glance,  and  now  and  again  with  ostentatious 
emphasis  she  spoke  to  Angele,  whom  she  had 
had  brought  to  her  in  the  morning  before 
chapel-going.  Thus  early,  after  a  few  ques- 
tions and  some  scrutiny,  she  had  sent  her  in 
charge  of  a  gentleman-at-arms  and  a  maid 
of  the  Duke's  Daughter  to  her  father's  lodg- 
ing, with  orders  to  change  her  robe,  to  return 
to  the  palace  in  good  time  before  noon,  and 
to  bring  her  father  to  a  safe  place  where  he 
could  watch  the  pleasures  of  the  people. 
When  Angele  came  to  the  presence  again, 
she  saw  that  the  Queen  was  wearing  a  gown 
of  pure  white,  with  the  sleeves  shot  with 
black,  such  as  she  herself  had  worn  when 
admitted  to  audience  yesterday.  Vexed, 
167 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

agitated,  imbittered  as  Elizabeth  had  been 
by  the  news  brought  to  her  the  night  before, 
she  had  kept  her  wardrobers  and  seamstress- 
es at  work  the  whole  night  to  alter  a  white 
satin  habit  to  the  simplicity  and  style  of  that 
which  Angele  had  worn. 

"What  think  you  of  my  gown,  my  lady 
refugee?"  she  said  to  Angele,  at  last,  as  the 
Gentlemen  Pensioners  paraded  in  the  space 
below,  followed  by  the  Knights-Tilters — at 
their  head  the  Queen's  champion,  Sir  Henry 
Lee:  twenty-five  of  the  most  gallant  and 
favored  of  the  courtiers  of  Elizabeth,  in- 
cluding the  gravest  of  her  counsellors  and 
the  youngest  gallant  who  had  won  her  smile, 
Master  Christopher  Hatton.  Some  of  these 
brave  suitors,  taken  from  the  noblest  fam- 
ilies, had  appeared  in  the  tilt-yard  every 
anniversary  of  the  year  of  her  accession 
and  had  lifted  their  romantic  office,  which 
seemed  but  the  service  of  enamoured  knights, 
into  an  almost  solemn  dignity. 

The  vast  crowd  disposed  itself  around  the 
great  improvised  yard  where  the  Knights- 
Tilters  were  to  engage,  and  the  Queen,  fol- 
168 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

lowed  by  her  retinue,  descended  to  the  dais 
which  had  been  set  up  near  the  palace.  Her 
white  satin  gown,  roped  with  pearls  only  at 
the  neck  and  breast,  glistened  in  the  bright 
sun,  and  her  fair  hair  took  on  a  burnished 
radiance.  As  Angele  passed  with  her  in  the 
gorgeous  procession,  she  could  not  but  view 
the  scene  with  admiring  eye,  albeit  her  own 
sweet,  sober  attire — a  pearly  gray — seemed 
little  in  keeping;  for  the  ladies  and  lords 
were  most  richly  attired,  and  the  damask 
and  satin  cloaks,  crimson  velvet  gowns,  silk 
hoods,  and  jewelled  swords  and  daggers 
made  a  brave  show.  She  was  like  some  moth 
in  a  whorl  of  butterflies. 

Her  face  was  pale,  and  her  eyes  had  a  curi- 
ous, disturbed  look,  as  though  they  had  seen 
frightening  things.  The  events  of  last  even- 
ing had  tried  her  simple  spirit,  and  she  shrank 
from  this  glittering  show ;  but  the  knowledge 
that  her  lover's  life  was  in  danger,  and  that 
her  happiness  was  here  and  now  at  stake, 
held  her  bravely  to  her  place,  beset  as  it 
was  with  peril;  for  the  Queen,  with  that 
eccentricity  which  had  lifted  her  up  yester- 
169 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

day,  might  cast  her  down  to-day,  and  she 
had  good  reason  to  fear  the  power  and  in- 
fluence of  Leicester,  who  she  knew  with  a 
sure  instinct  was  intent  on  Michel's  ruin. 
Behind  all  her  nervous  shrinking  and  her 
heart's  doubt,  the  memory  of  the  face  of  the 
stranger  she  had  seen  last  night  with  Sir 
Andrew  Melvill  tortured  her.  She  could  not 
find  the  time  and  place  where  she  had  seen 
the  eyes  that,  in  the  palace,  had  filled  her 
with  mislike  and  abhorrence  as  they  looked 
upon  the  Queen.  Again  and  again  in  her 
fitful  sleep  had  she  dreamed  of  him,  and  a 
sense  of  foreboding  was  heavy  upon  her — 
she  seemed  to  hear  the  footfall  of  coming 
disaster.  The  anxiety  of  her  soul  lent  an 
unnatural  brightness  to  her  eyes;  so  that 
more  than  one  enamoured  courtier  made  es- 
say to  engage  her  in  conversation,  and  paid 
her  deferential  compliment  when  the  Queen's 
eyes  were  not  turned  her  way.  Come  to 
the  dais,  she  was  placed  not  far  from  her 
Majesty,  beside  the  Duke's  Daughter,  whose 
whimsical  nature  found  frequent  expression 
in  what  the  Queen  was  wont  to  call  "  a  merry 
170 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

volt."  She  seemed  a  privileged  person,  with 
whom  none  ventured  to  take  liberties,  and 
against  whom  none  was  entitled  to  beai 
offence,  for  her  quips  were  free  from  malice 
and  her  ingenuity  in  humor  of  mark.  She 
it  was  who  had  put  into  the  Queen's  head 
that  morning  an  idea  which  was  presently 
to  startle  Angele  and  all  others. 

Leicester  was  riding  with  the  Knights- 
Tilters,  and  as  they  cantered  lightly  past  the 
dais,  trailing  their  spears  in  obeisance,  Eliza- 
beth engaged  herself  in  talk  with  Cecil,  who 
was  standing  near,  and  appeared  not  to  see 
the  favorite.  This  was  the  first  time  since  he 
had  mounted  to  good  fortune  that  she  had 
not  thrown  him  a  favor  to  pick  up  with  his 
spear  and  wear  in  her  honor,  and  he  could 
scarce  believe  that  she  had  meant  to  neglect 
him.  He  half  halted,  but  she  only  deigned 
an  inclination  of  the  head,  and  he  spurred 
his  horse  angrily  on  with  a  muttered  impre- 
cation, yet,  to  all  seeming,  gallantly  paying 
homage. 

"There  shall  be  doings  ere  this  day  is 
done.    '  Beware  the  Gypsy !' "  said  the  Duke's 
171 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Daughter,  in  a  low  tone,  to  Angele,  and  she 
laughed  lightly. 

"Who  is  the  Gypsy?"  asked  Angele,  with 
good  suspicion,  however. 

"Who  but  Leicester,"  answered  the  other. 
"Is  he  not  black  enough?" 

"Why  was  he  so  called?  Who  put  the 
name  upon  him?" 

"Who  but  the  Earl  of  Sussex,  as  he  died 
— as  noble  a  chief,  as  true  a  counsellor  as 
ever  spoke  truth  to  a  queen.  But  truth  is 
not  all  at  court,  and  Sussex  was  no  flatterer. 
Leicester  bowed  under  the  storm  for  a  mo- 
ment when  Sussex  showed  him  in  his  true 
colors;  but  Sussex  had  no  gift  of  intrigue, 
the  tide  turned,  and  so  he  broke  his  heart 
and  died.  But  he  left  a  message  which  I 
sometimes  remember  with  my  collects.  '  I 
am  now  passing  to  another  world,'  said  he, 
'and  must  leave  you  to  your  fortunes  and 
to  the  Queen's  grace  and  goodness;  but  be- 
ware the  Gypsy,  for  he  will  be  too  hard  for 
all  of  you ;  you  know  not  the  beast  so  well  as 
I  do.'  But  my  Lord  Sussex  was  wrong. 
One  there  is  who  knows  him  through  and 
172 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

through,  and  hath  little  joy  in  the  know- 
ing." 

The  look  in  the  eyes  of  the  Duke's  Daughter 
became  like  steel  and  her  voice  hardened, 
and  Angele  realized  that  Leicester  had  in 
this  beautiful  and  delicate  maid -of -honor 
as  bitter  an  enemy  as  ever  brought  down  the 
mighty  from  their  seats;  that  a  pride  had 
been  sometime  wounded,  suffered  an  un- 
warrantable affront,  which  only  innocence 
could  feel  so  acutely.  Her  heart  went  out 
to  the  Duke's  Daughter  as  it  had  never  gone 
out  to  any  of  her  sex  since  her  mother's 
death,  and  she  showed  her  admiration  in  her 
glance.  The  other  saw  it  and  smiled,  slip- 
ping a  hand  in  hers  for  a  moment ;  and  then 
a  look,  half -debating,  half -triumphant,  came 
into  her  face  as  her  eyes  followed  Leicester 
down  the  green  stretches  of  the  tilting-yard. 

The  trumpet  sounded,  the  people  broke 
out  in  shouts  of  delight,  the  tilting  began. 
For  an  hour  the  handsome  joust  went  on,  the 
Earl  of  Oxford,  Charles  Howard,  Sir  Henry 
Lee,  Sir  Christopher  Hatton,  and  Leicester 
challenging,  and  so  even  was  the  combat  that 
173 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

victory  seemed  to  settle  in  the  plumes  of 
neither,  though  Leicester  of  them  all  showed 
not  the  greatest  skill,  while  in  some  regards 
greatest  grace  and  deportment.  Suddenly 
there  rode  into  the  lists,  whence  no  one 
seemed  to  know,  so  intent  had  the  public 
gaze  been  fixed,  so  quickly  had  he  come,  a 
mounted  figure  all  in  white,  and  at  the  mo- 
ment when  Sir  Henry  Lee  had  cried  aloud 
his  challenge  for  the  last  time.  Silence  fell 
as  the  bright  figure  cantered  down  the  list, 
lifted  the  gauge,  and  sat  still  upon  his  black 
steed.  Consternation  fell.  None  among  the 
people  or  the  Knights-Tilters  knew  who  the 
invader  was,  and  Leicester  called  upon  the 
masters  of  the  ceremonies  to  demand  his 
name  and  quality.  The  white  horseman 
made  no  reply,  but  sat  unmoved,  while 
noise  and  turmoil  suddenly  sprang  up  around 
him. 

Presently  the  voice  of  the  Queen  was 
heard  clearly  ringing  through  the  lists.  "  His 
quality  hatri  evidence.  Set  on." 

The  Duke's  Daughter  laughed,  and  whis- 
pered mischievously  in  Angele's  ear. 
174 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

The  gentlemen  of  England  fared  ill  that 
day  in  the  sight  of  all  the  people,  for  the 
challenger  of  the  Knights-Tilters  was  more 
than  a  match  for  each  that  came  upon  him. 
He  rode  like  a  wild  horseman  of  Yucatan. 
Wary,  resourceful,  sudden  in  device  and  pow- 
erful in  onset,  he  bore  all  down,  until  the 
Queen  cried:  "There  hath  not  been  such 
skill  in  England  since  my  father  rode  these 
lists.  Three  of  my  best  gentlemen  down, 
and  it  hath  been  but  breathing  to  him.  Now, 
Sir  Harry  Lee,  it  is  thy  turn,"  she  laughed, 
as  she  saw  the  champion  ride  forward;  "and 
next  'tis  thine,  Leicester.  Ah,  Leicester, 
would  have  at  him  now  ?"  she  added,  sharply, 
as  she  saw  the  favorite  spur  forward  before 
the  gallant  Lee.  "  He  is  full  of  choler — it 
becomes  him,  but  it  shall  not  be;  bravery 
is  not  all.  And  if  he  failed" — she  smiled 
acidly — "he  would  get  him  home  to  Kenil- 
worth  and  show  himself  no  more — if  he  fail- 
ed, and  the  white  knight  failed  not !  What 
think  you,  dove?"  she  cried  to  the  Duke's 
Daughter.  "Would  he  not  fall  in  the  me- 
grims for  that  England's  honor  had  been 
175 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

overthrown?  Leicester  could  not  live  if 
England's  honor  should  be  toppled  down 
like  my  dear  Chris  Hatton  and  his  gallants, 
yonder." 

The  Duke's  Daughter  courtesied.  "Me- 
thinks  England's  honor  is  in  little  peril— 
your  Majesty  knows  well  how  to  'fend  it. 
No  subject  keeps  it." 

"If  I  must  'fend  it,  dove,  then  Leicester 
there  must  not  fight  to-day.  It  shall  surely 
be  Sir  Harry  Lee.  My  Lord  Leicester  must 
have  the  place  of  honor  at  the  last,"  she 
called  aloud.  Leicester  swung  his  horse 
round,  and  galloped  to  the  Queen. 

"Your  Majesty,"  he  cried,  in  suppressed 
anger,  "must  I  give  place?" 

"When  all  have  failed  and  Leicester  has 
won,  then  all  yield  place  to  Leicester,"  said 
the  Queen,  dryly. 

The  look  on  his  face  was  not  good  to  see, 
but  he  saluted  gravely  and  rode  away  to 
watch  the  encounter  between  the  most  gal- 
lant Knight-Tilter  in  England  and  the  stran- 
ger. Rage  was  in  his  heart,  and  it  blinded 
him  to  the  certainty  of  his  defeat,  for  he  was 
176 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

not  expert  in  the  lists.  But  by  a  sure  in- 
stinct he  had  guessed  the  identity  of  the 
white  horseman,  and  every  nerve  quivered 
with  desire  to  meet  him  in  combat.  Last 
night's  good  work  seemed  to  have  gone  for 
naught.  Elizabeth's  humor  had  changed; 
and  to-day  she  seemed  set  on  humiliating 
him  before  the  nobles  who  hated  him,  before 
the  people  who  had  found  in  him  the  cause 
why  the  Queen  had  not  married,  so  giving  no 
heir  to  the  throne.  Perturbed  and  charged 
with  anger  as  he  was,  however,  the  com- 
bat now  forward  soon  chained  his  attention. 
Not  in  many  a  year  had  there  been  seen  in 
England  such  a  display  of  skill  and  deter- 
mination. The  veteran  Knight-Tilter,  who 
knew  that  the  result  of  this  business  meant 
more  than  life  to  him,  and  that  more  than 
the  honor  of  his  comrades  was  at  stake — even 
the  valor  of  England,  which  had  been  chal- 
lenged— fought  as  he  had  ne~Ter  fought  be- 
fore, as  no  man  had  fought  ii  England  for 
many  a  year.  At  first  the  people  cried  aloud 
their  encouragement;  but  as  onset  and  at- 
tack after  onset  and  attack  showed  that  two 
177 


masters  of  their  craft,  two  desperate  men 
had  met,  and  that  the  great  sport  had  become 
a  vital  combat  between  their  own  champion 
and  the  champion  of  another  land — Spain, 
France,  Denmark,  Russia,  Italy? — a  hush 
spread  over  the  great  space,  and  every  eye 
was  strained ;  men  gazed  with  bated  breath. 
The  green  turf  was  torn  and  mangled,  the 
horses  reeked  with  sweat  and  foam,  but  over- 
head the  soaring  skylark  sang,  as  it  were,  to 
express  the  joyance  of  the  day.  During 
many  minutes  the  only  sound  that  broke  the 
stillness  was  the  clash  of  armed  men,  the 
thud  of  hoofs,  and  the  snorting  and  the  wild 
breathing  of  the  chargers.  The  lark's  notes, 
however,  ringing  out  over  the  lists,  freed  the 
tongue  of  the  Queen's  fool,  who  suddenly  ran 
out  into  the  lists,  in  his  motley  and  cap  and 
bells,  and  in  his  high,  trilling  voice  sang  a 
fool's  song  to  the  fighting  twain : 

"Who  would  lie  down  and  close  his  eyes 

While  yet  the  lark  sings  o'er  the  dale? 
Who  would  to  Love  make  no  replies, 

Nor  drink  the  nut-brown  ale, 
While  throbs  the  pulse,  and  full's  the  purse 
And*  all  the  world's  for  sale?" 
178 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Suddenly  a  cry  of  relief,  of  roaring  excite- 
ment, burst  from  the  people.  Both  horse- 
men and  their  chargers  were  on  the  ground. 
The  fight  was  over,  the  fierce  game  at  an 
end.  That  which  all  had  feared,  even  the 
Queen  herself,  as  the  fight  -fared  on,  had  not 
come  to  pass — England's  champion  had  not 
been  beaten  by  the  armed  mystery,  though 
the  odds  had  seemed  against  him. 

"Though  wintry  blasts  may  prove  unkind, 

When  winter's  past  we  do  forget; 
Love's  breast  in  summer-time  is  kind, 
And  all's  well  while  life's  with  us  yet— 
Hey,  ho,  now  the  lark  is  mating, 
Life's  sweet  wages  are  in  waiting!" 

Thus  sang  the  fool  as  the  two  warriors  were 
helped  to  their  feet.  Cumbered  with  their 
armor,  and  all  dust-covered  and  blood-stain- 
ed, though  not  seriously  hurt,  they  were  help- 
ed to  their  horses,  and  rode  to  the  dais  where 
the  Queen  sat. 

"Ye  have  fought  like  men  of  old,"  she 
said,  "  and  neither  had  advantage  at  the  last. 
England's  champion  still  may  cry  his  chal- 
lenge and  not  be  forsworn,   and   he  who 
179 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

challenged  goeth  in  honor  again  from  the 
lists.  You,  sir,  who  have  challenged,  shall 
we  not  see  your  face  or  hear  your  voice? 
For  what  country,  for  what  prince  lifted  you 
the  gauge  and  challenged  England's  honor?" 

"I  crave  your  high  Majesty's  pardon" — 
Angele's  heart  stood  still.  Her  love  had  not 
pierced  his  disguise,  though  Leicester's  hate 
had  done  so  on  the  instant — "  I  crave  your 
noble  Majesty's  grace,"  answered  the  stran- 
ger, "that  I  may  still  keep  my  face  covered 
in  humility.  My  voice  speaks  for  no  coun- 
try and  for  no  prince.  I  have  fought  for 
mine  own  honor,  and  to  prove  to  England's 
Queen  that  she  hath  a  champion  who  smiteth 
with  strong  arm,  as  on  me  and  my  steed  this 
hath  been  seen  to-day." 

"Gallantly  thought  and  well  said,"  an- 
swered Elizabeth;  "but  England's  champion 
and  his  strong  arm  have  no  victory.  If  gifts 
were  given  they  must  needs  be  cut  in  twain. 
But  answer  me,  what  is  your  country?  I 
will  not  have  it  that  any  man  pick  up  the 
gauge  of  England  for  his  own  honor.  What 
is  your  country?" 

1 80 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"I  am  an  exile,  your  high  Majesty;  and 
the  only  land  for  which  I  raise  my  sword  this 
day  is  that  land  where  I  have  found  safety 
from  my  enemies." 

The  Queen  turned  and  smiled  at  the  Duke's 
Daughter.  "  I  knew  not  where  my  own 
question  might  lead,  but  he  hath  turned  it 
to  full  account,"  she  said,  under  her  breath. 
"  His  tongue  is  as  ready  as  his  spear.  Then 
ye  have  both  labored  in  England's  honor, 
and  I  drink  to  you  both,"  she  added,  and 
raised  to  her  lips  a  glass  of  wine  which  a 
page  presented.  "I  love  ye  both — in  your 
high  qualities,"  she  hastened  to  add,  with 
dry  irony,  and  her  eye  rested  mockingly  on 
Leicester. 

"My  lords  and  gentlemen  and  all  of  my 
kingdom,"  she  added,  in  a  clear  voice,  in- 
sistent in  its  force,  "ye  have  come  upon  May 
Day  to  take  delight  of  England  in  my  gar- 
dens, and  ye  are  welcome.  Ye  have  seen 
such  a  sight  as  doeth  good  to  the  eyes  of 
brave  men.  It  hath  pleased  me  well,  and  I 
am  constrained  to  say  to  you  what,  for  divers 
great  reasons,  I  have  kept  to  my  own  coun- 

'3  l8l 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

sels,  laboring  for  your  good.  The  day  hath 
come,  however,  the  day  and  the  hour,  when 
ye  shall  know  that  wherein  I  propose  to 
serve  you  as  ye  well  deserve.  It  is  my  will — 
and  now  I  see  my  way  to  its  good  fulfilment — 
that  I  remain  no  longer  in  that  virgin  state 
wherein  I  have  ever  lived." 

Great  cheering  here  broke  in,  and  for  a 
time  she  could  get  no  further.  Ever  alive  to 
the  bent  of  the  popular  mind,  she  had  chosen 
a  perfect  occasion  to  take  them  into  her  con- 
fidence— however  little  or  much  she  would 
abide  by  her  words,  or  intended  the  union 
of  which  she  spoke.  In  the  past  she  had 
counselled  with  her  great  advisers,  with  Cecil 
and  the  rest,  and  through  them  messages 
were  borne  to  the  people ;  but  now  she  spoke 
direct  to  them  all,  and  it  had  its  immediate 
reward — the  acclamations  were  as  those  with 
which  she  was  greeted  when  she  first  passed 
through  the  streets  of  London  on  inheriting 
the  crown. 

Well  pleased,  she  continued:  "This  I  will 
do  with  expedition  and  weightiest  judgment, 
for  of  little  account  though  I  am,  he  that  sits, 
182 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

with  the  Queen  of  England  in  this  realm, 
must  needs  be  a  prince  indeed.  ...  So  be  ye 
sure  of  this  that  ye  shall  have  your  heart- 
most  wishes,  and  there  shall  be  one  to  come 
after  me  who  will  wear  this  crown  even  as  I 
have  worn,  in  direct  descent,  my  father's 
crown.  Our  dearest  sister,  the  Queen  of 
the  Scots,  hath  been  delivered  of  a  fair  son; 
and  in  high  affection  the  news  thereof  she 
hath  sent  me,  with  a  palfrey  which  I  shall  ride 
among  you  in  token  of  the  love  I  bear  her 
Majesty.  She  hath  in  her  time  got  an  heir 
to  the  throne  with  which  we  are  ever  in  kin- 
ship and  alliance,  and  I  in  my  time  shall 
give  ye  your  hearts'  desire." 

Angele,  who  had,  with  palpitating  heart 
and  swimming  head,  seen  Michel  de  la  Forct 
leave  the  lists  and  disappear  among  the  trees, 
as  mysteriously  as  he  came,  was  scarce  con- 
scious of  the  cheers  and  riotous  delight  that 
followed  Elizabeth's  tactful  if  delusive  speech 
to  the  people.  A  few  whispered  words  from 
the  Duke's  Daughter  had  told  her  that  Michel 
had  obeyed  the  Queen's  command  in  enter- 
ing the  lists  and  taking  up  the  challenge; 
183 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

and  that  she  herself,  carrying  the  royal  mes- 
sage to  him  and  making  arrangements  for 
his  accoutrement  and  mounting,  had  urged 
him  to  obedience.  She  observed  dryly  that  he 
had  needed  little  pressure,  and  that  his  eyes 
had  lighted  at  the  prospect  of  the  combat. 
Apart  from  his  innate  love  of  fighting,  he 
had  realized  that  in  the  moment  of  declining 
to  enter  the  Queen's  service  he  had  been  at 
a  disadvantage,  and  that  his  courage  was 
open  to  attack  by  the  incredulous  or  mali- 
cious. This  would  have  mattered  little  were 
it  not  that  he  had  been  given  unusual  im- 
portance as  a  prisoner  by  the  Queen's  per- 
sonal notice  of  himself.  He  had,  therefore, 
sprung  to  the  acceptance,  and  sent  his  hum- 
ble duty  to  the  Queen  by  her  winsome  mes- 
senger, who,  with  conspicuous  dramatic  skill, 
had  arranged  secretly,  with  the  help  of  a 
Gentleman  Pensioner  and  the  Master  of 
the  Horse,  his  appearance  and  his  exit. 
That  all  succeeded  as  she  had  planned 
quickened  her  pulses,  and  made  her  heart 
still  warmei  to  Angele,  who,  now  that  all 
was  over,  and  her  Huguenot  lover  had  gone 
184 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

his  mysterious  way,  seemed  lost  in  a  trou- 
bled reverie. 

It  was  a  troubled  reverie,  indeed,  for 
Angele's  eyes  were  on  the  stranger  who  was 
present  with  Sir  Andrew  Melvill  the  night 
before.  Her  gaze  upon  him  now  became 
fixed  and  insistent,  for  the  sense  of  forebod- 
ing so  heavy  on  her  deepened  to  a  torturing 
suspense.  Where  had  she  seen  this  man  be- 
fore ?  To  what  day  or  hour  in  her  past  did 
he  belong?  What  was  there  in  his  smooth, 
smiling,  malicious  face  that  made  her  blood 
run  cold?  As  she  watched  him,-  he  turned 
his  head.  She  followed  his  eyes.  The  horse 
which  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  had  sent  with 
the  message  of  the  birth  of  her  son  was 
being  led  to  the  Queen  by  the  dark-browed, 
pale-faced  churl  who  had  brought  it  from 
Scotland.  She  saw  a  sharp,  dark  look  pass 
between  the  two. 

Suddenly  her  sight  swam,  she  swayed  and 
would  have  fainted,  but  resolution  steadied 
her,  and  a  low  exclamation  broke  from  her 
lips.  Now  she  knew! 

The  face  that  had  eluded  her  was  at  last 
185 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

in  the  grasp  of  horrified  memory.  It  was  the 
face  of  one  who  many  years  ago  was  known 
to  have  poisoned  the  Due  de  Chambly  by 
anointing  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  with  a 
delicate  poison  which  the  rider  would  touch, 
and  touching  would,  perhaps,  carry  to  his 
nostrils  or  mouth  as  he  rode,  and  die  upon 
the  instant.  She  herself  had  seen  the  Due 
de  Chambly  fall ;  had  seen  this  man  fly  from 
Paris  for  his  life ;  and  had  thereafter  known 
of  his  return  to  favor  at  the  court  of  Mary 
and  Francis,  for  nothing  could  be  proved 
against  him.  The  memory  flashed  like 
lightning  through  her  brain.  She  moved 
swiftly  forward  despite  the  detaining  hand 
of  the  Duke's  Daughter.  The  Queen  was  al- 
ready mounted,  her  hand  already  upon  the 
pommel  of  the  saddle. 

Elizabeth  noted  the  look  of  anguished 
anxiety  in  Angele's  eyes,  her  face  like  that 
of  one  who  had  seen  souls  in  purgatory ;  and 
some  swift  instinct,  born  of  years  upon  years 
of  peril  in  old  days  when  her  life  was  no 
boon  to  her  enemies,  made  her  lean  towards 
the  girl,  whose  quick  whispered  words  were 
186 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

to  her  as  loud  as  thunder.  She  was,  how- 
ever, composed  and  still.  Not  a  tremor 
passed  through  her. 

"Your  wish  is  granted,  mistress,"  she  said 
aloud,  then  addressed  a  word  to  Cecil  at  her 
side,  who  passed  on  her  command.  Pres- 
ently she  turned  slowly  to  the  spot  where 
Sir  Andrew  Melvill  and  the  other  sat  upon 
their  horses.  She  scanned  complacently  the 
faces  of  both,  then  her  eyes  settled  steadily 
on  the  face  of  the  murderer.  Still  gazing 
intently,  she  drew  the  back  of  her  gloved 
fingers  along  the  pommel.  The  man  saw 
the  motion,  unnoted  and  unsignificant  to 
any  other  save  Angele,  meaningless  even  to 
Melvill,  the  innocent  and  honest  gentleman  at 
his  side ;  and  he  realized  that  the  Queen  had 
had  a  warning.  Noting  the  slight  stir  among 
the  gentlemen  round  him,  he  knew  that  his 
game  was  foiled,  that  there  was  no  escape. 
He  was  not  prepared  for  what  followed. 

In  a  voice  to  be  heard  only  at  small  dis- 
tance, the  Queen  said,  calmly: 

"  This  palfrey  sent  me  by  my  dear  sister  of 
Scotland  shall  bear  me  among  you,  friends; 
187 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

and  in  days  to  come  I  will  remember  how  she 
hath  given  new  life  to  me  by  her  loving  message. 
Sir  Andrew  Melvill,  I  shall  have  further 
speech  with  you;  and  you,  sir"-  -  speaking 
to  the  sinister  figure  by  his  side — "come 
hither." 

The  man  dismounted,  and  with  unsteady 
step  came  forward.  Elizabeth  held  out  her 
gloved  hand  for  him  to  kiss.  His  face  turned 
white.  It  was  come  soon,  his  punishment. 
None  knew  save  Angele  and  the  Queen  the 
doom  that  was  upon  him,  if  Angele's  warn- 
ing was  well  founded.  He  knelt,  and  bent 
his  head  over  her  hand. 

"  Salute  sir,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

He  touched  his  lips  to  her  ringers.  She 
pressed  them  swiftly  against  his  mouth.  An 
instant,  then  he  rose  and  stepped  back- 
ward to  his  horse.  Tremblingly,  blindly,  he 
mounted. 

A  moment  passed,  then  Elizabeth  rode  on 
with  her  ladies  behind  her,  her  gentlemen 
beside  her.  As  she  passed  slowly,  the  would- 
be  regicide  swayed  and  fell  from  his  horse, 
and  stirred  no  more. 

188 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Elizabeth  rode  on,  her  hand  upon  the 
pommel  of  the  saddle.  So  she  rode  for  a 
full  half-hour,  and  came  back  to  her  palace. 
But  she  raised  not  her  gloved  right  hand 
above  the  pommel,  and  she  dismounted  with 
exceeding  care. 

That  night  the  man  who  cared  for  the 
horse  died  secretly,  as  had  done  his  master, 
with  the  Queen's  glove  pressed  to  his  nostrils 
by  one  whom  Cecil  could  trust.  And  the 
matter  was  hidden  from  the  court  and  the 
people;  for  it  was  given  out  that  Melvill's 
friend  had  died  of  some  heart  trouble. 


XV 


T  seemed  an  unspeakable 
smallness  in  a  man  of  such 
high  place  in  the  state, 
whose  hand  had  tied  and 
untied  myriad  knots  of 
political  and  court  intrigue, 
that  he  should  stoop  to  a  game  which  any 
pettifogging  hanger-on  might  play — and  reap 
scorn  in  the  playing.  By  insidious  arts, 
Leicester  had  in  his  day  turned  the  Queen's 
mind  to  his  own  will;  had  foiled  the  diplo- 
macy of  the  Spaniard,  the  German,  and  the 
Gaul;  had  by  subterranean  means  check- 
mated the  designs  of  the  Medici ;  had  traced 
his  way  through  plot  and  counter-plot,  hated 
by  most,  loved  by  none  save,  maybe,  his 
royal  mistress,  to  whom  he  was  now  more  a 
custom  than  a  beloved  friend.  Year  upon 
year  he  had  built  up  his  influence.  None 
190 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

had  championed  him  save  himself,  and  even 
from  the  consequences  of  rashness  and  folly 
he  had  risen  to  a  still  higher  place  in  the 
kingdom.  But  such  as  Leicester  are  ever 
at  last  a  sacrifice  to  the  laborious  means  by 
which  they  achieve  their  greatest  ends — 
means  contemptible  and  small. 

To  the  great  intriguers  every  little  detail, 
every  commonplace  insignificance  is  used — 
and  must  be  used  by  them  alone — to  further 
their  dark  causes.  They  cannot  trust  their 
projects  to  brave  lieutenants,  to  faithful  sub- 
ordinates. They  cannot  say,  "  Here  is  the 
end ;  this  is  the  work  to  be  done ;  upon  your 
shoulders  be  the  burden!"  They  must 
"stoop  to  conquer."  Every  miserable  detail 
becomes  of  moment,  until  by-and-by  the 
art  of  intrigue  and  conspiracy  begins  to  lose 
proportion  in  their  minds.  The  detail  has 
ever  been  so  important,  conspiracy  so  much 
second  nature,  that  they  must  needs  be  in- 
triguing and  conspiring  when  the  occasion  is 
trifling  and  the  end  negligible. 

To  all  intriguers  life  has  lost  romance; 
there  is  no  poem  left  in  nature ;  no  ideal,  per- 
191 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

sonal,  public,  or  national,  detains  them  in  its 
wholesome  influence;  no  great  purpose  al- 
lures them ;  they  have  no  causes  for  which  to 
die — save  themselves.  They -are  so  honey- 
combed with  insincerity  and  the  vice  *  of 
thought  that  by -and -by  all  colors  are  as 
one,  all  pathways  the  same;  because,  which- 
ever hue  of  light  breaks  upon  their  world  they 
see  it  through  the  gray-cloaked  mist  of  false- 
hood ;  and  whether  the  path  be  good  or  bad 
they  would  still  walk  in  it  crookedly.  How 
many  men  and  women  Leicester  had  tracked 
or  lured  to  their  doom ;  over  how  many  men 
and  women  he  had  stepped  to  his  place  of 
power,  history  speaks  not  carefully;  but  the 
traces  of  his  deeds  run  through  a  thousand 
archives,  and  they  suggest  plentiful  sacrifices 
to  a  subverted  character. 

Favorite  of  a  queen,  he  must  now  stoop  to 
set  a  trap  for  the  ruin  of  as  simple  a  soul  as 
ever  stepped  upon  the  soil  of  England;  and 
his  dark  purposes  had  not  even  the  excuse 
of  necessity  on  the  one  hand,  of  love  or  pas- 
sion on  the  other.  An  insane  jealousy  of 
the  place  the  girl  had  won  in  the  considera- 
192 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

tion  of  the  Queen,  of  her  lover  who,  he 
thought,  had  won  a  still  higher  place  in  the 
same  influence,  was  his  only  motive  for  ac- 
tion at  first.  His  cruelty  was  not  redeemed 
even  by  the  sensuous  interest  the  girl  might 
arouse  in  a  reckless  nature  by  her  beauty 
and  her  charm. 

So  the  great  Leicester — the  Gypsy,  as  the 
dead  Sussex  had  called  him — lay  in  wait  in 
Greenwich  Park  for  Angele  to  pass,  like  some 
orchard-thief  in  the  blossoming  trees.  Know- 
ing the  path  by  which  she  would  come  to  her 
father's  cottage  from  the  palace,  he  had 
placed  himself  accordingly.  He  had  thought 
he  might  have  to  wait  long  or  come  often  for 
the  perfect  opportunity ;  but  it  seemed  as  if 
fate  played  his  game  for  him,  and  that  once 
again  the  fruit  he  would  pluck  should  fall 
into  his  palm.  Bright-eyed,  and  elated  from 
a  long  talk  with  the  Duke's  Daughter,  who 
had  given  her  a  message  from  the  Queen, 
Angele  had  abstractedly  taken  the  wrong 
path  in  the  wood.  Leicester  saw  that  it 
would  lead  her  into  the  maze  some  distance 
off.  Making  a  d6tour,  he  met  her  at  the 

193 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

moment  she  discovered  her  mistake.  The 
light  from  the  royal  word  her  friend  had 
brought  was  still  in  her  face;  but  it  was 
crossed  by  perplexity  now. 

He  stood  still,  as  though  astonished  at  see- 
ing her,  a  smile  upon  his  face.  So  perfectly 
did  he  play  his  part  that  she  thought  the 
meeting  accidental ;  and  though  in  her  heart 
she  had  a  fear  of  the  man,  and  knew  how  bit- 
ter an  enemy  he  was  of  Michel's,  his  urbane 
power,  his  skilful  diplomacy  of  courtesy  had 
its  way.  These  complicated  lives,  instinct 
with  contradiction,  have  the  interest  of  for- 
bidden knowledge.  The  dark  experiences 
of  life  leave  their  mark,  and  give  such  natures 
that  touch  of  mystery  which  allures  even 
those  who  have  high  instincts  and  true  feel- 
ings, as  one  peeps  ever  a  hidden  depth  and 
wonders  what  lies  beyond  the  dark.  So 
Angele,  suddenly  arrested,  was  caught  by 
the  sense  of  mystery  in  the  man,  by  the 
fascination  of  finesse,  of  dark  power;  and  it 
was  womanlike  that  all  on  an  instant  she 
should  dream  of  the  soul  of  goodness  in 
things  evil. 

194 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Thus  in  life  we  are  often  surprised  out  of 
long  years  of  prejudice,  and  even  of  dislike 
and  suspicion,  by  some  fortuitous  incident, 
which  might  have  chanced  to  two  who  had 
every  impulse  towards  each  other,  not  such 
antagonisms  as  lay  between  Robert  Dudley, 
Earl  of  Leicester,  and  this  Huguenot  refugee. 
She  had  every  cue  to  hate  him.  Each  mo- 
ment of  her  life  in  England  had  been  beset 
with  peril  because  of  him — peril  to  the  man 
she  loved,  therefore  peril  to  herself.  And 
yet,  so  various  is  the  nature  of  woman  that, 
while  steering  straitly  by  one  star,  she  levies 
upon  the  light  of  other  stars.  Faithful  and 
sincere,  yet  loving  power,  curious  and  ad- 
venturous, she  must  needs,  without  inten- 
tion, without  purpose,  stray  into  perilous 
paths. 

As  Leicester  stepped  suddenly  into  An- 
gele's  gaze,  she  was  only,  as  it  were,  con- 
scious of  a  presence  in  itself  alluring  by  vir- 
tue of  the  history  surrounding  it.  She  was 
surprised  out  of  an  instinctive  dislike,  and 
the  cue  she  had  to  loathe  him  was  for  the 
moment  lost. 

195 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Unconsciously,  unintentionally,  she  smiled 
at  him  now,  then,  realizing,  retreated,  shrink- 
ing from  him,  her  face  averted.  Man  or 
woman  had  found  in  Leicester  the  delicate 
and  intrepid  gamester,  exquisite  in  the  choice 
of  detail,  masterful  in  the  breadth  of  method. 
And  now,  as  though  his  whole  future  de- 
pended on  this  interview,  he  brought  to  bear 
a  life-long  skill  to  influence  her.  He  had 
determined  to  set  the  Queen  against  her. 
He  did  not  know — not  even  he — that  she 
had  saved  the  Queen's  life  on  that  auspicious 
May  Day  when  Harry  Lee  had  fought  the 
white  knight,  Michel  de  la  Forct,  and  halved 
the  honors  of  the  lists  with  him.  If  he  had 
but  known  that  the  Queen  had  hid  from 
him  this  fact — this  vital  thing  touching  her- 
self and  England — he  would  have  viewed  his 
future  with  a  vaster  distrust.  But  there 
could  be  no  surer  sign  of  Elizabeth's  grow- 
ing coldness  and  intended  breach  than  that 
she  had  hid  from  him  the  dreadful  incident 
of  the  poisoned  glove  and  the  swift  execu- 
tion of  the  would-be  murderer,  and  had 
made  Cecil  her  only  confidant.  But  he  did 
196 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

know  that  Elizabeth  herself  had  commanded 
Michel  de  la  Foret  to  the  lists;  and  his  mad 
jealousy  impelled  him  to  resort  to  a  satanic 
cunning  towards  these  two  fugitives,  who 
seemed  to  have  mounted  within  a  few  short 
days  as  far  as  had  he  in  thrice  as  many  years 
to  a  high  place  in  the  regard  of  the  Majesty 
of  England. 

To  disgrace  them  both,  to  sow  distrust  of 
the  girl  in  the  Queen's  mind;  to  make  her 
seem  the  opposite  of  what  she  was;  to  drop 
in  her  own  mind  suspicion  of  her  lover;  to 
drive  her  to  some  rash  act,  some  challenge 
of  the  Queen  herself — that  was  his  plan.  He 
knew  how  little  Elizabeth's  imperious  spirit 
would  brook  any  challenge  from  this  fearless 
girl  concerning  De  la  Foret.  But  to  con- 
vince her  that  the  Queen  favored  Michel  in 
some  shadowed  sense,  that  De  la  Foret  was 
privy  to  a  dark  compact — so  deep  a  plot  was 
all  worthy  of  a  larger  end.  He  had  well  in- 
spired the  court  of  France  through  its  am- 
bassador to  urge  the  Medici  to  press  actively 
and  bitterly  for  De  la  Foret's  return  to  France, 
and  to  the  beheading  sword  that  waited  for 
14  197 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

him;  and  his  task  had  been  made  light  by 
international  difficulties,  which  made  the 
heart  of  Elizabeth's  foreign  policy  friendship 
with  France  and  an  alliance  against  Philip 
of  Spain.  She  had,  therefore,  opened  up, 
even  in  the  past  few  days,  negotiations  once 
again  for  the  long-talked-of  marriage  with 
the  Duke  of  Anjou,  the  brother  of  the  King, 
son  of  the  Medici.  State  policy  was  in- 
volved, and,  if  De  la  Foret  might  be  a 
counter,  the  pledge  of  exchange  in  the  game, 
as  it  were,  the  path  would  once  more  be 
clear. 

He  well  believed  that  Elizabeth's  notice  of 
De  la  Fore"t  was  but  a  fancy  that  would  pass, 
as  a  hundred  times  before  such  fancies  had 
come  and  gone;  but  against  that  brighter 
prospect  there  lay  the  fact  that  never  before 
had  she  shown  himself  such  indifference.  In 
the  past  she  had  raged  against  him,  she  had 
imprisoned  him,  she  had  driven  him  from 
her  presence  in  her  anger,  but  always  her 
paroxysms  of  rage  had  been  succeeded  by 
paroxysms  of  tenderness.  Now  he  saw  a 
colder  light  in  the  sky,  a  grayer  horizon  met 
198 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

his  eye.  So  at  every  corner  of  the  compass 
he  played  for  the  breaking  of  the  spell. 

Yet  as  he  now  bowed  low  before  Angele 
there  seemed  to  show  in  his  face  a  very  can- 
dor of  surprise,  of  pleasure,  joined  to  a  some- 
thing friendly  and  protective  in  his  glance 
and  manner.  His  voice  insinuated  that  by- 
gones should  be  by-gones ;  it  suggested  that 
she  had  misunderstood  him.  It  pleaded 
against  the  injustice  of  her  prejudice. 

"  So  far  from  home!"  he  said,  with  a  smile. 

"More  miles  from  home,"  she  replied, 
thinking  of  never-returning  days  in  France, 
"than  I  shall  ever  count  again." 

"  But  no,  methinks  the  palace  is  within  a 
whisper,"  he  responded. 

"  Lord  Leicester  knows  well  I  am  a  pris- 
oner, that  I  no  longer  abide  in  the  palace," 
she  answered. 

He  laughed  lightly.  "An  imprisonment 
in  a  Queen's  friendship.  I  bethink  me,  it  is 
three  hours  since  I  saw  you  go  to  the  palace. 
It  is  a  few  worthless  seconds  since  you  have 
got  your  freedom." 

She  nettled  at  his  tone.  "  Lord  Leicester 
199 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

takes  great  interest  in  my  unimportant  go- 
ings and  comings.  I  cannot  think  it  is  be- 
cause I  go  and  come." 

He  chose  to  misunderstand  her  meaning. 
Drawing  closer,  he  bent  over  her  shoulder. 
"  Since  your  arrival  here  my  only  diary  is 
the  tally  of  your  coming  and  going."  Sud- 
denly, as  though  by  an  impulse  of  great 
frankness,  he  added,  in  a  low  tone : 

"And  is  it  strange  that  I  should  follow 
you  —  that  I  should  worship  grace  and 
virtue?  Men  call  me  this  and  that.  You 
have  no  doubt  been  filled  with  dark  tales  of 
my  misdeeds.  Has  there  been  one  in  the 
court,  even  one,  who,  living  by  my  bounty 
or  my  patronage,  has  said  one  good  word  of 
me  ?  And  why  ?  For  long  years  the  Queen, 
who,  maybe,  might  have  been  better  coun- 
selled, chose  me  for  her  friend,  adviser — be- 
cause I  was  true  to  her.  I  have  lived  for  the 
Queen,  and  living  for  her  have  lived  for  Eng- 
land. Could  I  keep — I  ask  you,  could  I 
keep  myself  blameless  in  the  midst  of  flat- 
tery, intrigue,  and  conspiracy  ?  I  admit  that 
I  have  played  with  fiery  weapons  in  my  day, 
200 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

and  must  needs  still  do  so.  The  incorrupt- 
ible cannot  exist  in  the  corrupted  air  of  this 
court.  You  have  come  here  with  the  light 
of  innocence  and  truth  about  you.  At  first 
I  could  scarce  believe  that  such  goodness 
lived,  hardly  understood  it.  The  light  half- 
blinded  and  embarrassed ;  but  at  last  I  saw ! 
You  of  all  this  court  have  made  me  see  what 
sort  of  life  I  might  have  lived.  You  have 
made  me  dream  the  dreams  of  youth  and 
high,  unsullied  purpose  once  again.  Was  it 
strange  that  in  the  dark  pathways  of  the 
court  I  watched  your  footsteps  come  and  go, 
carrying  radiance  with  you?  No — Leices- 
ter has  learned  how  sombre,  sinister,  has  been 
his  past,  by  a  presence  which  is  the  soul  of 
beauty,  of  virtue,  and  of  happy  truth.  Lady, 
my  heart  is  yours.  I  worship  you." 

Overborne  for  the  moment  by  the  eager, 
searching  eloquence  of  his  words,  she  had 
listened  bewildered  to  him.  Now  she  turn- 
ed upon  him  with  panting  breath,  and 
said: 

"My  lord,  my  lord,  I  will  hear  no  more. 
You  know  I  love  Monsieur  de  la  Foret,  for 
201 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

whose  sake  I  am  here  in  England — for  whose 
sake  I  still  remain." 

"  Tis  a  labor  of  love  but  ill  requited,"  he 
answered,  with  suggestion  in  his  tone. 

"What  mean  you,  my  lord?"  she  asked, 
sharply,  a  kind  of  blind  agony  in  her  voice; 
for  she  felt  his  meaning,  and  though  she  did 
not  believe  him,  and  knew  in  her  soul  he 
slandered,  there  was  a  sting,  for  slander  ever 
scorches  where  it  touches. 

"Can  you  not  see?"  he  said.  "May  Day 
— why  did  the  Queen  command  him  to  the 
lists  ?  Why  does  she  keep  him  here — in  the 
palace?  Why,  against  the  will  of  France, 
her  ally,  does  she  refuse  to  send  him  forth? 
Why,  unheeding  the  laughter  of  the  court, 
does  she  favor  this  unimportant  stranger, 
brave  though  he  be  ?  Why  should  she  smile 
upon  him?  .  .  .  Can  you  not  see,  sweet  lady?" 

"You  know  well  why  the  Queen  detains 
him  here,"  she  answered,  calmly  now.  "In 
the  Queen's  understanding  with  France, 
exiles  who  preach  the  faith  are  free  from 
extradition.  You  heard  what  the  Queen  re- 
quired of  him — that  on  Trinity  Day  he 
202 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

should  preach  before  her,  and  upon  this 
preaching  should  depend  his  safety." 

"Indeed,  so  her  Majesty  said  with  great 
humor,"  replied  Leicester.  "So,  indeed,  she 
said ;  but  when  we  hide  our  faces  a  thin  veil 
suffices.  The  man  is  a  soldier — a  soldier 
born.  Why  should  he  turn  priest  now?  I 
pray  you,  think  again.  He  was  quick  of 
wit;  the  Queen's  meaning  was  clear  to  him; 
he  rose  with  seeming  innocence  to  the  fly, 
and  she  landed  him  at  the  first  toss.  But 
what  is  forward  bodes  no  good  to  you,  dear 
star  of  heaven.  I  have  known  the  Queen 
for  half  a  lifetime.  She  has  wild  whims  and 
dangerous  fancies,  fills  her  hours  of  leisure 
with  experiences — an  artist  is  the  Queen. 
She  means  no  good  to  you." 

She  had  made  as  if  to  leave  him,  though 
her  eyes  searched  in  vain  for  the  path  which 
she  should  take;  but  she  now  broke  in,  im- 
patiently : 

"  Poor,  unnoted  though  I  am,  the  Queen 

of  England  is  my  friend,"    she   answered. 

"What  evil  could  she  wish  me?     From  me 

she  has  naught  to  fear.     I  am  not  an  atom  in 

203 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

her  world.  Did  she  but  lift  her  finger  I  am 
done.  But  she  knows  that,  humble  though 
I  be,  I  would  serve  her  to  my  last  breath; 
because  I  know,  my  Lord  Leicester,  how 
many  there  are  who  serve  her  foully,  faith- 
lessly, and  there  should  be  those  by  her  who 
would  serve  her  singly." 

His  eyes  half  closed,  he  beat  his  toe  upon 
the  ground.  He  frowned,  as  though  he  had 
no  wish  to  hurt  her  by  words  which  he  yet 
must  speak.  With  calculated  thought  he 
faltered. 

"Yet  do  you  not  think  it  strange,"  he 
said,  at  last,  "that  Monsieur  de  la  Foret 
should  be  within  the  palace  ever,  and  that 
you  should  be  banished  from  the  palace? 
Have  you  never  seen  the  fly  and  the  spider 
in  the  web?  Do  you  not  know  that  they 
who  have  the  power  to  bless  or  ban,  to  give 
joy  or  withhold  it,  appear  to  give  when  they 
mean  to  withhold?  God  bless  us  all — how 
has  your  innocence  involved  your  judg- 
ment!" 

She  suddenly  flushed  to  the  eyes.  "I 
have  wit  enough,"  she  said,  acidly,  "to  feel 
204 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

that  truth  which  life's  experience  may  not 
have  taught  me.  It  is  neither  age  nor  evil 
that  teaches  one  to  judge  'twixt  black  and 
white.  God  gives  the  true  divination  to 
human  hearts  that  need." 

It  was  a  contest  in  which  Leicester  rev- 
elled —  simplicity  and  single  -  mindedness 
against  the  multifarious  and  double-tongued. 
He  had  made  many  efforts  in  his  time  to 
conquer  argument  and  prejudice.  When  he 
chose,  none  could  be  more  insinuating  or 
turn  the  flank  of  a  proper  argument  by  adroit 
suggestion.  He  used  his  power  now. 

"  You  think  she  means  well  by  you  ?  You 
think  that  she,  who  has  a  thousand  ladies  of 
a  kingdom  at  her  call,  of  the  best  and  most 
beautiful  —  and  even,"  his  voice  softened, 
"though  you  are  more  beautiful  than  all, 
that  beauty  would  soften  her  towards  you? 
When  was  it  Elizabeth  loved  beauty  ?  When 
was  it  that  her  heart  warmed  towards  those 
who  would  love  or  wed?  Did  she  not  im- 
prison me,  even  in  these  palace  grounds,  for 
one  whole  year  because  I  sought  to  marry? 
Has  she  not  a  hundred  times  sent  from  her 
205 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

presence  women  with  faces  like  flowers  be- 
cause they  were  in  contrast  to  her  own? 
Do  you  see  love  blossoming  at  this  court? 
God's  Son!  but  she  would  keep  us  all  like 
babes  in  Eden  an  she  could,  unmated  and 
unloved." 

He  drew  quickly  to  her  and  leaned  over 
her,  whispering  down  her  shoulder.  "  Do 
you  think  there  is  any  reason  why  all  at 
once  she  should  change  her  mind  and  cherish 
lovers?" 

She  looked  up  at  him  fearlessly  and  firmly. 

"  In  truth,  I  do.  My  Lord  Leicester,  you 
have  lived  in  the  circle  of  her  good  pleasure, 
near  to  her  noble  Majesty,  as  you  say,  for 
half  a  lifetime.  Have  you  not  found  a  rea- 
son why  now  or  any  time  she  should  cherish 
love  and  lovers?  Ah,  no;  you  have  seen 
her  face,  you  have  heard  her  voice,  but  you 
have  not  known  her  heart!" 

"  Ah,  opportunity  lacked,"  he  said, 'in  irony 
and  with  a  reminiscent  smile.  "  I  have  been 
busy  with  state  affairs,  I  have  not  sat  on 
cushions,  listening  to  royal  fingers  on  the 
virginals.  Still,  I  ask  you,  do  you  think 
206 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

there  is  a  reason  why  from  her  height  she 
should  stoop  down  to  rescue  you  or  give 
you  any  joy?  Wherefore  should  the  Queen 
do  aught  to  serve  you?  Wherefore  should 
she  save  your  lover?" 

It  was  on  Angele's  lips  to  answer,  "Be- 
cause I  saved  her  life  on  May  Day."  It  was 
on  her  lips  to  tell  of  the  poisoned  glove,  but 
she  only  smiled,  and  said: 

"  But,  yes,  I  think,  my  lord,  there  is  a  rea- 
son, and  in  that  reason  I  have  faith." 

Leicester  saw  how  firmly  she  was  fixed  in 
her  idea,  how  rooted  was  her  trust  in  the 
Queen's  intentions  towards  her ;  and  he  guess- 
ed there  was  something  hidden  which  gave 
her  such  supreme  confidence. 

"If  she  means  to  save  him,  why  does  she 
not  save  him  now  ?  Why  not  end  the  busi- 
ness in  a  day — not  stretch  it  over  these  long 
midsummer  weeks?" 

"  I  do  not  think  it  strange,"  she  answered. 
"  He  is  a  political  prisoner.  Messages  must 
come  and  go  between  England  and  France. 
Besides,  who  calleth  for  haste  ?  Is  it  I  who 
have  most  at  stake  ?  It  is  not  the  first  time 
207 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

I  have  been  at  court,  my  lord.  In  these 
high  places  things  are  orderly  " — a  touch  of 
sarcasm  came  into  her  tone — "life  is  not  a 
mighty  rushing  wind  save  to  those  whom 
vexing  passion  drives  to  hasty  deeds." 

She  made  to  move  on  once  more,  but 
paused,  still  not  certain  of  her  way. 

"  Permit  me  to  show  you,"  he  said,  with  a 
laugh  and  a  gesture  towards  a  path.  "  Not 
that — this  is  the  shorter.  I  will  take  you  to 
a  turning  which  leads  straight  to  your  du- 
rance— and  another  which  leads  elsewhere!" 

She  could  not  say  no,  because  she  had,  in 
very  truth,  lost  her  way,  and  she  might 
wander  far  and  be  in  danger.  Also,  she  had 
no  fear  of  him.  Steeled  to  danger  in  the 
past,  she  was  not  timid;  but,  more  than  all, 
the  game  of  words  between  them  had  had 
its  fascination.  The  man  himself,  by  virtue 
of  what  he  was,  had  his  fascination  also. 
The  thing  inherent  in  all  her  sex,  to  peep 
over  the  hedge,  to  skirt  dangerous  fires  light- 
ly, to  feel  the  warmth  distantly  and  not  be 
scorched — that  was  in  her,  too,  and  she  lived 
according  to  her  race  and  the  long  predis- 
208 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

position  of  the  ages.  Most  women  like  her 
— as  good  as  she — have  peeped  and  stretched 
out  hands  to  the  alluring  fire  and  come 
safely  through,  wiser  and  no  better.  But 
many,  too,  bewildered  and  confused  by  what 
they  see — as  light  from  a  mirror  flashed  into 
the  eye  half  blinds — have  peeped  over  the 
hedge  and,  miscalculating  their  power  of 
self-control,  have  entered  in,  and  returned 
no  more  into  the  quiet  garden  of  unstraying 
love. 

Leicester  quickly  put  on  an  air  of  gravity. 
"I  warn  you  that  danger  lies  before  you. 
If  you  cross  the  Queen — and  you  will  cross 
the  Queen  when  you  know  the  truth,  as  I 
know  it — you  will  pay  a  heavy  price  for  re- 
fusing Leicester  as  your  friend." 

She  made  a  protesting  motion  and  seemed 
about  to  speak,  but  suddenly,  with  a  pas- 
sionate gesture,  Leicester  added:  "Let  them 
go  their  way.  Monsieur  de  la  For£t  will  be 
tossed  aside  before  another  winter  comes. 
Do  you  think  he  can  abide  here  in  the  midst 
of  plot  and  intrigue  and  hated  by  the  people 
of  the  court?  He  is  doomed.  But  more, 
209 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

he  is  unworthy  of  you ;  while  I  can  serve  you 
well,  and  I  can  love  you  well."  She  shrank 
away  from  him.  "  No,  do  not  turn  from  me, 
for,  in  very  truth,  Leicester's  heart  has  been 
pierced  by  the  inevitable  arrow.  You  think 
I  mean  you  evil?" 

He  paused  as  though  uncertain  how  to 
proceed,  then  with  a  sudden  impulse  con- 
tinued: "No!  no!  And  if  there  be  a  saving 
grace  in  marriage,  marriage  it  shall  be,  if 
you  will  but  hear  me.  You  shall  be  my 
wife — Leicester's  wife.  As  I  have  mounted 
to  power,  so  I  will  hold  power  with  you — 
with  you,-  the  brightest  spirit  that  ever  Eng- 
land saw.  Worthy  of  a  kingdom  with  you 
beside  me,  I  shall  win  to  greater,  happier 
days;  and  at  Kenilworth,  where  kings  and 
queens  have  lodged,  you  shall  be  ruler.  We 
will  leave  this  court  until  Elizabeth,  betrayed 
by  those  who  know  not  how  to  serve  her, 
shall  send  for  me  again.  Here — the  power 
behind  the  throne — you  and  I  will  sway  this 
realm  through  the  aging,  sentimental  Queen. 
Listen,  and  look  at  me  in  the  eyes — I  speak 
the  truth,  you  read  my  heart.  You  think  I 
210 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

hated  you  and  hated  De  la  Foret.  By  all 
the  gods!  it's  true  I  hated  him,  because  I 
saw  that  he  would  come  between  me  and  the 
Queen.  A  man  must  have  one  great  pas- 
sion. Life  itself  must  be  a  passion.  Power 
•was  my  passion — power,  not  the  Queen. 
You  have  broken  all'  that  down.  I  yield  it 
all  to  you — for  your  sake  and  my  own.  I 
would  steal  from  life  yet  before  my  sun  goes 
to  its  setting  a  few  years  of  truth  and  hon- 
esty and  clear  design.  At  heart  I  am  a 
patriot — a  loyal  Englishman.  Your  cause 
—the  cause  of  Protestantism — did  I  not  fight 
for  it  at  Rochelle?  Have  I  not  ever  urged 
the  Queen  to  spend  her  revenue  for  your 
cause,  to  send  her  captains  and  her  men  to 
fight  for  it?" 

She  raised  her  head  in  interest,  and  her 
lips  murmured,  "Ah,  yes,  I  know  you  did 
that." 

He  saw  his  advantage  and  pursued  it. 
"See,  I  will  be  honest  with  you — honest  at 
last,  as  I  have  wished  in  vain  to  be,  for  hon- 
esty was  misunderstood.  It  is  not  so  with 
you — you  understand.  Ah,  light  of  woman- 
211 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

hood,  I  speak  the  truth  now.  I  have  been 
evil  in  my  day — I  admit  it — evil  because  I 
was  in  the  midst  of  evil.  I  betrayed  because 
I  was  betrayed;  I  slew  else  I  should  have 
been  slain.  We  have  had  dark  days  in  Eng- 
land, privy  conspiracy  and  rebellion;  and  I 
have  had  to  thread  my  way  through  dread- 
ful courses  by  a  thousand  blind  paths. 
Would  it  be  no  joy  to  you  if  I,  through  your 
influence,  recast  my  life — remade  my  policy, 
renewed  my  youth — pursuing  principle  where 
I  have  pursued  opportunity  ?  Angele,  come 
to  Kenilworth  with  me.  Leave  De  la  Foret 
to  his  fate.  The  way  to  happiness  is  with 
me.  Will  you  come?" 

He  had  made  his  great  effort.  As  he  spoke 
he  almost  himself  believed  that  he  told  the 
truth.  Under  the  spell  of  his  own  emotional 
power  it  seemed  as  though  he  meant  to 
marry  her,  as  though  he  could  find  happi- 
ness in  the  union.  He  had  almost  persuaded 
himself  to  be  what  he  would  have  her  to  be- 
lieve he  might  be. 

Under  the  warmth  and  convincing  force 
of  his  words  her  pulses  had  beat  faster,  her 
212 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

heart  had  throbbed  in  her  throat,  her  eyes 
had  glistened ;  but  not  with  that  light  which 
they  had  shed  for  Michel  de  la  Foret.  How 
different  was  this  man's  wooing — its  im- 
petuous, audacious,  tender  violence,  with 
that  quiet,  powerful,  almost  sacred  gravity 
of  her  Camisard  lover!  It  is  this  difference 
—  the  weighty,  emotional  difference  —  be- 
tween a  desperate  passion  and  a  pure  love 
which  has  ever  been  so  powerful  in  twisting 
the  destinies  of  a  moiety  of  the  world  to  mis- 
ery, who  otherwise  would  have  stayed  con- 
tented, inconspicuous,  and  good.  Angele 
would  have  been  more  than  human  if  she  had 
not  felt  the  spell  of  the  ablest  intriguer,  of 
the  most  fascinating  diplomatist  of  his  day. 

Before  he  spoke  of  marriage  the  thrill — 
the  unconvincing  thrill  though  it  was — of  a 
perilous  temptation  was  upon  her;  but  the 
very  thing  most  meant  to  move  her  only 
made  her  shudder ;  for  in  her  heart  of  hearts 
she  knew  that  he  was  ineradicably  false.  To 
be  married  to  one  constitutionally  untrue 
would  be  more  terrible  a  fate  for  her  than  to 
be  linked  to  him  in  a  lighter,  more  dissoluble 

15  213 


A  Ladder  of  Swords    . 

bond.  So  do  the  greatest  tricksters  of  this 
world  overdo  their  part,  so  play  the  wrong 
card  when  every  past  experience  suggests  it 
is  the  card  to  play.  He  knew  by  the  silence 
that  followed  his  words,  and  the  slow,  steady 
look  she  gave  him,  that  she  was  not  won  nor 
on  the  way  to  the  winning. 

"My  lord,"  she  said,  at  last,  and  with  a 
courage  which  steadied  her  affrighted  and 
perturbed  innocence,  "you  are  eloquent,  you 
are  fruitful  of  flattery,  of  those  things  which 
have,  I  doubt  not,  served  you  well  in  your 
day.  But,  if  you  see  your  way  to  a  better 
life,  it  were  well  you  should  choose  one  of 
nobler  mould  than  I.  I  am  not  made  for 
sacrifice,  to  play  the  missioner  and  snatch 
brands  from  the  burning.  I  have  enough 
to  do  to  keep  my  own  feet  in  the  ribbon-path 
of  right.  You  must  look  elsewhere  for  that 
guardian  influence  which  is  to  make  of  you 
a  paragon." 

"No,   no,"   he  answered,   sharply,    "you 
think  the  game  not  worth  the  candle — you 
doubt  me  and  what  I  can  do  for  you;  my 
sincerity,  my  power  you  doubt." 
214 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  Indeed,  yes,  I  doubt  both,"  she  answered, 
gravely,  "for  you  would  have  me  believe 
that  I  have  power  to  lead  you.  With  how 
small  a  mind  you  credit  me !  You  think,  too, 
that  you  sway  this  kingdom ;  but  I  know  that 
you  stand  upon  a  cliff's  edge,  and  that  the 
earth  is  fraying  'neath  your  tread.  You 
dare  to  think  that  you  have  power  to  drag 
down  with  you  the  man  who  honors  me 
with—" 

"With  his  love,  you'd  say.  Yet  he  will 
leave  you  fretting  out  your  soul  until  the 
sharp-edged  truth  cuts  your  heart  in  twain. 
Have  you  no  pride?  I  care  not  what  you 
say  of  me — say  your  worst,  and  I  will  not 
resent  it,  for  I  will  still  prove  that  your  way 
lies  with  me." 

She  gave  a  bitter  sigh,  and  touched  her 
forehead  with  trembling  fingers.  "  If  words 
could  prove  it,  I  had  been  convinced  but 
now,  for  they  are  well  devised,  and  they  have 
music,  too;  but  such  a  music,  my  lord,  as 
would  drown  the  truth  in  the  soul  of  a  wom- 
an. Your 'words  allure,  but  you  have  learn- 
ed the  art  of  words.  You  yourself  —  oh, 
215 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

my  lord,  you  who  have  tasted  all  the  pleas- 
ures of  this  world,  could  you  then  have  the 
heart  to  steal  from  one  who  has  so  little 
that  little  which  gives  her  happiness?" 

"You  know  not  what  can  make  you  hap- 
py— I  can  teach  you  that.  By  God's  Son! 
but  you  have  wit  and  intellect  and  are  a 
match  for  a  prince,  not  for  a  cast-off.  Cami- 
sard.  I  shall  ere  long  be  lord  -  lieutenant 
of  these  isles  —  of  England  and  Ireland. 
Come  to  my  nest.  We  will  fly  far!  Ah, 
your  eye  brightens,  your  heart  leaps  to  mine 
—I  feel  it  now,  I—" 

"Oh,  have  done,  have  done,"  she  passion- 
ately broke  in.  "I  would  rather  die,  be  torn 
upon  the  rack,  burned  at  the  stake,  than  put 
my  hand  in  yours.  And  you  do  not  wish  it 
— you  speak  but  to  destroy,  not  to  cherish. 
While  you  speak  to  me  I  see  all  those" — she 
made  a  gesture  as  though  to  put  something 
from  her — "all  those  to  whom  you  have 
spoken  as  you  have  done  to  me.  I  hear  the 
myriad  falsehoods  you  have  told — one  whelm- 
ing confusion.  I  feel  the  blindness  which 
has  crept  upon  them — those  poor  women — 
216 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

as  you  have  sown  the  air  with  the  dust  of 
the  passion  which  you  call  love.  Oh,  you 
never  knew  what  love  meant,  my  lord.  I 
doubt  if  when  you  lay  in  your  mother's 
arms  you  turned  to  her  with  love.  You 
never  did  one  kindly  act  for  love ;  no  gener- 
ous thought  was  ever  born  in  you  by  love. 
Sir,  I  know  it  as  though  it  were  written  in  a 
book :  your  life  has  been  one  long  calculation 
—your  sympathy  or  kindness  a  calculated 
thing.  Good-nature,  emotion  you  may  have 
had,  but  never  the  divine  thing  by  which 
the  world  is  saved.  Were  there  but  one  lit- 
tle place  where  that  Eden  flower  might 
bloom  within  your  heart,  you  could  not  seek 
to  ruin  that  love  which  lives  in  mine  and  fills 
it,  conquering  all  the  lesser  part  of  me.  I 
never  knew  of  how  much  love  I  was  capable 
until  I  heard  you  speak  to-day.  Out  of  your 
life's  experience,  out  of  all  that  you  have 
learned  of  women,  good  and  evil,  you — for  a 
selfish,  miserable  purpose — would  put  the 
gyves  upon  my  wrists,  make  me  a  pawn  in 
your  dark  game — a  pawn  which  you  would 
lose  without  a  thought  as  the  game  went  on. 
217 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  If  you  must  fight,  my  lord,  if  you  must 
ruin  Monsieur  de  la  Foret  and  a  poor  Hugue- 
not girl,  do  it  by  greater  means  than  this. 
You  have  power,  you  say.  Use  it  then ;  de- 
stroy us,  if  you  will.  Send  us  to  the  Medici : 
bring  us  to  the  block,  murder  us — that  were 
no  new  thing  to  Lord  Leicester.  But  do  not 
stoop  to  treachery  and  falsehood  to  thrust 
us  down.  Oh,  you  have  made  me  see  the 
depths  of  shame  to-day!  But  yet"  —her 
voice  suddenly  changed,  a  note  of  plaintive 
force  filled  it — "  I  have  learned  much  this 
hour — more  than  I  ever  knew.  Perhaps  it 
is  that  we  come  to  knowledge  only  through 
fire  and  tears."  She  smiled  sadly.  "I  sup- 
pose that  sometimes,  some  day,  this  page 
of  life  would  have  scorched  my  sight.  Oh, 
my  lord,  what  was  there  in  me  that  you  dared 
speak  so  to  me  ?  Was  there  naught  to  have 
stayed  your  tongue  and  stemmed  the  tide 
in  which  you  would  engulf  me?" 

He  had  listened  as  in  a  dream  at  first. 

She  had  read  him  as  he  might  read  himself, 

had  revealed  him  with  the  certain  truth,  as 

none  other  had  done  in  all  his  days.     He 

218 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

was  silent  for  a  long  moment,  then  raised  his 
hand  in  protest. 

"You  have  a  strange  idea  of  what  makes 
offence  and  shame.  I  offered  you  marriage, ' ' 
he  said,  complacently.  "And  when  I  come 
to  think  upon  it,  after  all  that  you  have 
said,  fair  Huguenot,  I  see  no  cause  for  rail- 
ing. You  call  me  this  and  that;  to  you  I 
am  a  liar,  a  rogue,  a  cut-throat,  what  you 
will ;  and  yet,  and  yet,  I  will  have  my  way — 
I  will  have  my  way  in  the  end." 

"You  offered  me  marriage — and  meant  it 
not.  Do  I  not  know?  Did  you  rely  so  lit- 
tle on  your  compelling  powers,  my  lord,  that 
you  must  needs  resort  to  that  bait  ?  Do  you 
think  that  you  will  have  your  way  to-mor- 
row if  you  have  failed  to-day?" 

With  a  quick  change  of  tone  and  a  cold, 
scornful  laugh  he  rejoined,  "  Do  you  intend 
to  measure  swords  with  me?" 

"  Oh  no,  my  lord,"  she  answered,  quietly, 
"what'  should  one  poor,  unfriended  girl  do  in 
contest  with  the  Earl-of  Leicester  ?  But  yet, 
in  very  truth,  I  have  friends,  and  in  my  hour 
of  greatest  need  I  shall  go  seeking." 
219 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

She  was  thinking  of  the  Queen.  He  guess- 
ed her  thought. 

"You  will  not  be  so  mad,"  he  said,  ur- 
banely, again.  "  Of  what  can  you  complain 
to  the  Queen?  Tut!  tut!  you  must  seek 
other  friends  than  the  Majesty  of  Eng- 
land." 

"Then,  my  lord,  I  will,"  she  answered, 
bravely.  "I  will  seek  the  help  of  such  a 
Friend  as  fails  not  when  all  fails,  even  He 
who  putteth  down  the  mighty  from  their 
seats  and  exalteth  the  humble." 

"Ah,  well,  if  I  have  not  touched  your 
heart,"  he  answered,  gallantly,  "I  at  least 
have  touched  your  wit  and  intellect.  Once 
more  I  offer  you  alliance.  Think  well  be- 
fore you  decline." 

He  had  no  thought  that  he  would  succeed, 
but  it  was  ever  his  way  to  return  to  the 
charge.  It  had  been  the  secret  of  his  life's 
success  so  far.  He  had  never  taken  a  refusal. 
He  had  never  believed  that  when  man  or 
woman  said  no  that  no  was  meant;  and  if 
it  were  meant  he  still  believed  that  constant 
dropping  would  wear  away  the  stone.  He 
220 


"IT  WAS  THE  QUEEN'S  FOOL" 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

still  held  that  persistence  was  the  greatest 
lever  in  the  world,  that  unswerving  persist- 
ence was  the  master  of  opportunity. 

They  had  now  come  to  two  paths  in  the 
park  leading  different  ways. 

"This  road  leads  to  Kenilworth,  this  to 
your  prison,"  he  said,  with  a  slow  gesture, 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  hers. 

"I  will  go  to  my  prison,  then,"  she  said, 
stepping  forward,  "and  alone,  by  your 
leave." 

Leicester  was  a  good  sportsman.  Though 
he  had  been  beaten  all  along  the  line,  he  hid 
his  deep  chagrin,  choked  down  the  rage  that 
was  in  him.  Smiling,  he  bowed  low. 

"I  will  do  myself  the  honor  to  visit  your 
prison  to-morrow,"  he  said. 

"My  father  will  welcome  you,  my  lord," 
she  answered,  and,  gathering  up  her  skirt, 
ran  down  the  pathway. 

He  stood,  unmoving,  and  watched  her  dis- 
appear. 

"  But  I  shall  have  my  way  with  them 
both,"  he  said,  aloud. 

The  voice  of  a  singer  sounded  in  the  green- 
221 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

wood.     Half  consciously  Leicester  listened. 
The  words  came  shrilling  through  the  trees: 

"Oh,  love,  it  is  a  lily  flower, 
(Sing,  my  captain,  sing,  my  lady!) 
The  sword  shall  cleave  it,  Life  shall  leave  it — 
Who  shall  know  the  hour? 
(Sing,  my  lady,  still!)." 

Presently  the  jingling  of  bells  mingled 
with  the  song,  then  a  figure  in  motley  burst 
upon  him.  It  was  the  Queen's  fool. 

"Brother,  well  met — most  happily  met!" 
he  cried. 

"And  why  well  met,  fool?"  asked  Leices- 
ter. 

"  Prithee,  my  work  grows  heavy,  brother. 
I  seek  another  fool  for  the  yoke.  Here  are 
my  bells  for  you.  I  will  keep  my  cap.  And 
so  we  will  work  together,  fool:  you  for  the 
morning,  I  for  the  afternoon,  and  the  devil 
take  the  night-time!  So  God  be  with  you, 
Obligate!" 

With  a  laugh  he  leaped  into  the  under- 
growth and  left  Leicester  standing  with  the 
bells  in  his  hand. 

222 


XVI 


NGELE  had  come  to  know, 
as  others  in  like  case  have 
ever  done,  how  wretched 
indeed  is  that  poor  man 
that  hangs  on  princes'  fa- 
vors. She  had  saved  the 
Queen's  life  upon  May  Day,  and  on  the  even- 
ing of  that  day  the  Queen  had  sent  for  her, 
had  made  such  high  and  tender  acknowl- 
edgment of  her  debt  as  would  seem  to  jus- 
tify for  her  perpetual  honor.  And  what 
Elizabeth  said  she  meant;  but  in  a  life  set 
In  forests  of  complications  and  opposing  in- 
terests the  political  overlapped  the  personal 
in  her  nature.  Thus  it  was  that  she  had 
kept  the  princes  of  the  world  dangling,  ad- 
vancing towards  marriage  with  them,  re- 
treating suddenly,  setting  off  one  house 
against  the  other,  allying  herself  to  one 
223 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

European  power  to-day,  with  another  to- 
morrow, her  own  person  and  her  crown  the 
pawn  with  which  she  played.  It  was  not  a 
beautif til  thing  in  a  woman,  but  it  was  what 
a  woman  could  do ;  and,  denied  other  powers 
given  to  men — as  to  her  father — she  resorted 
to  astute  but  doubtful  devices  to  advance 
her  diplomacy.  Over  all  was  self-infatua- 
tion, the  bane  of  princes,  the  curse  of  great- 
ness, the  source  of  wide  injustice.  It  was 
not  to  be  expected,  as  Leicester  had  said, 
that  Elizabeth,  save  for  the  whim  of  the  mo- 
ment, would  turn  aside  to  confer  benefit 
upon  Angele  or  to  keep  her  in  mind,  unless 
constrained  to  do  so  for  some  political  rea- 
son. 

The  girl  had  charmed  the  Queen,  had,  by 
saving  her  life,  made  England  her  long 
debtor;  but  Leicester  had  judged  rightly  in 
believing  that  the  Queen  might  find  the  debt 
irksome;  that  her  gratitude  would  be  cor- 
roded by  other  destructive  emotions.  It 
was  true  that  Angele  had  saved  her  life,  but 
Michel  had  charmed  her  eye.  He  had 
proved  himself  a  more  gallant  fighter  than 
224 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

any  in  her  kingdom;  and  had  done  it,  as  he 
had  said,  in  her  honor.  So,  as  her  admira- 
tion for  Michel  grew,  her  debt  to  Angele  be- 
came burdensome;  and,  despite  her  will, 
there  stole  into  her  mind  the  old  petulance 
and  smothered  anger  against  beauty  and 
love  and  marriage.  She  could  ill  bear  that 
one  near  her  person  should  not  be  content 
to  flourish  in  the  light  and  warmth  of  her 
own  favor,  setting  aside  all  other  small  af- 
fections. So  it  was  that  she  had  sent  Angele 
to  her  father  and  kept  De  la  Fore"t  in  the 
palace.  Perplexed,  troubled  by  new  devel- 
opments, the  birth  of  a  son  to  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots,  the  demand  of  her  Parliament  that 
she  should  marry,  the  pressure  of  foreign 
policy  which  compelled  her  to  open  up 
again  negotiations  for  marriage  with  the 
Duke  of  Anjou — all  these  combined  to  de- 
tach her  from  the  interest  she  had  suddenly 
felt  in  Angele.  But,  by  instinct,  she  knew 
also  that  Leicester,  through  jealousy,  had 
increased  the  complication ;  and,  fretful  under 
the  long  influence  he  had  had  upon  her,  she 
steadily  lessened  intercourse  with  him.  The 
225 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

duel  he  fought  with  Lempriere  on  May  Day 
came  to  her  ears  through  the  Duke's  Daughter, 
and  she  seized  upon  it  with  sharp  petulance. 
First  she  ostentatiously  gave  housing  and 
care  to  Lempriere,  and  went  to  visit  him; 
then,  having  refused  Leicester  audience, 
wrote  to  him. 

"  What  is  this  I  hear,"  she  scrawled  upon 
the  paper— "that  you  have  forced  a  quarrel 
with  the  Lord  of  Rozel,  and  have  well  ny 
ta'en  his  life !  Is  swording,  then,  your  dear- 
est vice  that  you  must  urge  it  on  a  harmless 
gentleman,  and  my  visitor?  Do  you  think 
you  hold  a  charter  of  freedom  for  your  self- 
will?  Have  a  care,  Leicester,  or,  by  God! 
you  shall  know  another  sword  surer  than 
your  own." 

The  rage  of  Leicester  on  receiving  this 
knew  no  bounds ;  for  though  he  had  received 
from  Elizabeth  stormy  letters  before,  none 
had  had  in  it  the  cold  irony  of  this  missive. 
The  cause  of  it?  Desperation  seized  him. 
With  a  mad  disloyalty  he  read  in  every  word 
of  Elizabeth's  letter,  Michel  de  la  For£t,  ref- 
ugee. With  madder  fury  he  determined  to 
226 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

strike  for  the  immediate  ruin  of  De  la  Foret, 
and  Angele  with  him — for  had  she  not  thrice 
repulsed  him  as  though  he  had  been  some 
village  captain?  After  the  meeting  in  the 
maze  he  had  kept  his  promise  of  visiting 
her  "prison."  By  every  art,  and  without 
avail,  he  had  through  patient  days  sought 
to  gain  an  influence  over  her;  for  he  saw  that 
if  he  could  but  show  the  Queen  that  the  girl  was 
open  to  his  advances,  accepted  his  protection, 
her  ruin  would  be  certain — in  anger  Eliza- 
beth would  take  revenge  upon  both  refugees. 
But  however  much  he  succeeded  with  Mon- 
sieur Aubert,  he  failed  wholly  with  Angele. 
She  repulsed  him  still  with  the  most  certain 
courtesy,  with  the  greatest  outward  com- 
posure ;  but  she  had  to  make  her  fight  alone, 
for  the  Queen  forbadeintercoursewithMichel, 
and  she  must  have  despaired  but  for  the 
messages  sent  now  and  then  by  the  Duke's 
Daughter. 

Through  M.  Aubert,  to  whom  Leicester 
was  diligently  courteous,  and  whom  he  sought 
daily,  discussing  piously  the  question  of  relig- 
ion so  dear  to  the  old  man's  heart,  he  strove 
227 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

to  foster  in  Angela's  mind  the  suspicion  he 
had  ventured  at  their  meeting  in  the  maze, 
that  the  Queen,  through  personal  interest  in 
Michel,  was  saving  his  life  to  keep  him  in  her 
household.  So  well  did  he  work  on  the  old 
man's  feelings  that  when  he  offered  his  own 
protection  to  M.  Aubert  and  Angele,  what- 
ever the  issue  with  De  la  Foret  might  be,  he 
was  met  with  an  almost  tearful  response  of 
gratitude.  It  was  the  moment  to  convey  a 
deep  distrust  of  De  la  Foret  into  the  mind  of 
the  old  refugee,  and  it  was  subtly  done. 

Were  it  not  better  to  leave  the  court,  where 
only  danger  surrounded  them,  and  find  safety 
on  Leicester's  own  estate,  where  no  man  liv- 
ing could  molest  them  ?  Were  it  not  well  to 
leave  Michel  de  la  Foret  to  his  fate,  what- 
ever it  would  be  ?  Thrice  within  a  week  the 
Queen  had  sent  for  De  la  Foret — what  reason 
was  there  for  that,  unless  the  Queen  had  a 
secret  personal  interest  in  him?  Did  M. 
Aubert  think  it  was  only  a  rare  touch  of  hu- 
mor which  had  turned  De  la  For6t  into  a 
preacher,  and  set  his  fate  upon  a  sermon  to 
be  preached  before  the  court?  He  himself 
228 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

had  long  held  high  office,  had  been  near  to 
her  Majesty,  and  he  could  speak  with  more 
knowledge  than  he  might  use — it  grieved 
him  that  Mademoiselle  Aubert  should  be 
placed  in  so  painful  a  position. 

Sometimes  as  the  two  talked  Angele 
would  join  them;  and  then  there  was  a  sud- 
den silence,  which  made  her  flush  with  em- 
barrassment, anxiety,  or  anger.  In  vain  did 
she  assume  a  cold  composure,  in  vain  school 
herself  to  treat  Leicester  with  a  precise 
courtesy;  in  vain  her  heart  protested  the 
goodness  of  De  la  Fore"t  and  high  upright- 
ness of  the  Queen ;  the  persistent  suggestions 
of  the  dark  earl  worked  upon  her  mind  in 
spite  of  all.  Why  had  the  Queen  forbidden 
her  to  meet  Michel,  or  write  to  him,  or  to 
receive  letters  from  him?  Why  had  the 
Queen,  who  had  spoken  such  gratitude,  de- 
serted her.  And  now  even  the  Duke's  Daugh- 
ter wrote  to  her  no  more,  sent  her  no  more 
messages.  She  felt  herself  a  prisoner,  and 
that  the  Queen  had  forgotten  her  debt. 

She  took  to  wandering  to  that  part  of  the 
palace  grounds  where  she  could  see  the 

16  229 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

windows  of  the  tower  her  lover  inhabited. 
Her  old  habit  of  cheerful  talk  deserted  her, 
and  she  brooded.  It  was  long  before  she 
heard  of  the  duel  between  the  seigneur  and 
Lord  Leicester  —  the  Duke's  Daughter  had 
kept  this  from  her,  lest  she  should  be  unduly 
troubled — and  when,  in  anxiety,  she  went 
to  the  house  where  Lempriere  had  been 
quartered,  he  had  gone,  none  could  tell  her 
whither.  Buonespoir  was  now  in  close  con- 
finement, by  secret  orders  of  Leicester,  and 
not  allowed  to  walk  abroad;  and  thus,  with 
no  friend  save  her  father,  now  so  much  under 
the  influence  of  the  earl,  she  was  bitterly 
solitary.  Bravely  she  fought  the  growing 
care  and  suspicion  in  her  heart ;  but  she  was 
being  tried  beyond  her  strength.  Her  fa- 
ther had  urged  her  to  make  personal  appeal 
to  the  Queen ;  and  at  times,  despite  her  better 
judgment,  she  was  on  the  verge  of  doing  so. 
Yet  what  could  she  say?  She  could  not  go 
to  the  Queen  of  England  and  cry  out,  like  a 
silly  milkmaid,  "  You  have  taken  my  lover — 
give  him  back  to  me!"  What  proof  had  she 
that  the  Queen  wanted  her  lover?  And  if 
230 


A  Ladder  of  Swords' 

she  spoke,  the  impertinence  of  the  sugges- 
tion might  send  back  to  the  fierce  Medici  that 
same  lover,  to  lose  his  head. 

Leicester,  who  now  was  playing  the  game 
as  though  it  were  a  hazard  for  states  and 
kingdoms,  read  the  increasing  trouble  in  her 
face ;  and  waited  confidently  for  the  moment 
when  in  desperation  she  would  lose  her  self- 
control  and  go  to  the  Queen. 

But  he  did  not  reckon  with  the  depth  of 
the  girl's  nature  and  her  true  sense  of  life. 
Her  brain  told  her  that  what  she  was  tempt- 
ed to  do  she  should  not;  that  her  only  way 
was  to  wait ;  to  trust  that  the  Queen  of  Eng- 
land was  as  much  true  woman  as  queen,  and 
as  much  queen  as  true  woman;  and  that  the 
one  was  held  in  high  equipoise  by  the  other. 
Besides,  Trinity  Day  would  bring  the  end  of 
it  all,  and  that  was  not  far  off.  She  steeled 
her  will  to  wait  till  then,  no  matter  how  dark 
the  sky  might  be. 

As  time  went  on,  Leicester  became  im- 
patient. He  had  not  been  able  to  induce  M. 
Aubert  to  compel  Angele  to  accept  a  quiet 
refuge  at  Kenilworth;  he  saw  that  this  plan 
231 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

would  not  work,  and  he  deployed  his  mind 
upon  another.  If  he  could  but  get  Angele 
to  seek  De  la  Foret  in  his  apartment  in  the 
palace,  and  then  bring  the  matter  to  Eliza- 
beth's knowledge,  with  sure  proof,  De  la 
Fore"t's  doom  would  be  sealed.  At  great 
expense,  however;  for,  in  order  to  make  the 
scheme  effective,  Angele  should  visit  De  la 
Fore"t  at  night.  This  would  mean  the  ruin 
of  the  girl  as  well.  Still  that  could  be  set 
right;  because,  once  De  la  Foret  was  sent 
to  the  Medici,  the  girl's  character  could  be 
cleared ;  and,  if  not,  so  much  the  surer  would 
she  come  at  last  to  his  protection.  What 
he  had  professed  in  cold  deliberation  had  be- 
come in  some  sense  a  fact.  She  had  roused 
in  him  an  eager  passion.  He  might  even 
dare,  when  De  la  Foret  was  gone,  to  confess 
his  own  action  in  the  matter  to  the  Queen, 
once  she  was  again  within  his  influence.  She 
had  forgiven  him  more  than  that  in  the  past, 
when  he  had  made  his  own  mad  devotion  to 
herself  excuse  for  his  rashness  or  miscon- 
duct. 

He  waited  opportunity,  he  arranged  all 
232 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

details  carefully,  he  secured  the  passive 
agents  of  his  purpose;  and  when  the  right 
day  came  he  acted. 

About  ten  o'clock  one  night,  a  half-hour 
before  the  closing  of  the  palace  gates,  when 
no  one  could  go  in  or  go  out  save  by  permit 
of  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  a  footman  from  a 
surgeon  of  the  palace  came  to  Angele,  bear- 
ing a  note  which  read : 

"  Your  friend  is  very  ill,  and  asks  for  you. 
Come  hither  alone;  and  now,  if  you  would  come 
at  all", 

Her  father  was  confined  to  bed  with  some 
ailment  of  the  hour,  and  asleep — it  were  no 
good  to  awaken  him.  Her  mind  was  at 
once  made  up.  There  was  no  time  to  ask 
permission  of  the  Queen.  She  knew  the  sur- 
geon's messengers  by  sight;  this  one  was  in 
the  usual  livery,  and  his  master's  name  was 
duly  signed.  In  haste  she  made  herself 
ready,  and  went  forth  into  the  night  with 
the  messenger,  her  heart  beating  hard,  a 
pitiful  anxiety  shaking  her.  Her  steps  were 
233 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

fleet  between  the  lodge  and  the  palace. 
They  were  challenged  nowhere,  and  the  sur- 
geon's servant,  entering  a  side -door  of  the 
palace,  led  her  hastily  through  gloomy  halls 
and  passages,  where  they  met  no  one,  though 
once  in  a  dark  corridor  some  one  brushed 
against  her.  She  wondered  why  there  were 
no  servants  to  show  the  way,  why  the  foot- 
man carried  no  torch  nor  candle;  but  haste 
and  urgency  seemed  due  excuse,  and  she 
thought  only  of  Michel,  and  that  she  would 
soon  see  him — dying,  dead  perhaps  before 
she  could  touch  his  hand!  At  last  they 
emerged  into  a  lighter  and  larger  hall-way, 
where  her  guide  suddenly  paused,  and  said 
to  Angele,  motioning  towards  a  door: 

"Enter.     He  is  there." 

For  a  moment  she  stood  still,  scarce  able 
to  breathe,  her  heart  hurt  her  so.  It  seemed 
to  her  as  if  life  itself  was  arrested.  As  the 
servant,  without  further  words,  turned  and 
left  her,  she  knocked,  opened  the  door  with- 
out awaiting  a  reply,  and,  stepping  into  semi- 
darkness,  said,  softly: 

"Michel!     Michel!" 

234 


XVII 


T  Angle's  entrance  a  form 
slowly  raised  itself  on  a 
couch,  and  a  voice,  not 
Michel's,  said:  "Mademoi- 
selle— by  our  Lady,  'tis 
she!" 

It  was  the  voice  of  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel, 
and  Angele  started  back,  amazed. 

"You,  monsieur — you!"  she  gasped.  "It 
was  you  that  sent  for  me?" 

" Send?  Not  I — I  have  not  lost  my  man- 
ners yet.  Rozel  at  court  is  no  greater  fool 
than  Lempriere  in  Jersey." 

Angele  wrung  her  hands.  "I  thought  it 
De  la  Fore"t  who  was  ill.  The  surgeon  said 
to  come  quickly." 

Lempriere  braced  himself  against  the  wall, 
for  he  was  weak  and  his  fever  still  high. 
"111? — not  he!    As  sound  in  body  and  soul 
235 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

as  any  man  in  England.  That  is  a  friend, 
that  De  la  Fore*t  lover  of  yours,  or  I'm  no 
butler  to  the  Queen.  He  gets  leave  and 
brings  me  here,  and  coaxes  me  back  to  life 
again — with  not  a  wink  of  sleep  for  him  these 
five  days  past  till  now." 

Angele  had  drawn  nearer,  and  now  stood 
beside  the  couch,  trembling  and  fearful,  for 
it  came  to  her  mind  that  she  had  been  made 
the  victim  of  some  foul  device.  The  letter 
had  read:  "  Your  friend  is  ill.11  True,  the 
seigneur  was  her  friend,  but  he  had  not  sent 
for  her. 

"  Where  is  De  la  For£t  ?"  she  asked,  quick- 

iy.  ^ 

"Yonder,  asleep,"  said  the  seigneur,  point- 
ing to  a  curtain  which  divided  the  room  from 
one  adjoining. 

Angele  ran  quickly  towards  the  door,  then 
stopped  short.  No,  she  would  not  waken 
him.  She  would  go  back  at  once.  She 
would  leave  the  palace  by  the  way  she  came. 
Without  a  word  she  turned  and  went  tow- 
ards the  door  opening  into  the  hallway.  With 
her  hand  upon  the  latch  she  stopped  short 
236 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

again,  for  she  realized  that  she  did  not  know 
her  way  through  the  passages  and  corridors, 
and  that  she  must  make  herself  known  to  the 
servants  of  the  palace  to  obtain  guidance 
and  exit.  As  she  stood  helpless  and  con- 
fused, the  seigneur  called,  hoarsely,  "De  la 
Foret!  De  la  Foret!" 

Before  Angele  could  decide  upon  her 
course  the  curtain  of  the  other  room  was 
thrust  aside  and  De  la  For£t  entered.  He 
was  scarce  awake,  and  he  yawned  contented- 
ly. He  did  not  see  Angele,  but  turned  tow- 
ards Lempriere.  For  once  the  seigneur  had 
a  burst  of  inspiration.  He  saw  that  Angele 
was  in  the  shadow,  and  that  De  la  Foret  had 
not  observed  her.  He  determined  that  the 
lovers  should  meet  alone. 

"Your  arm,  De  la  Foret,"  he  grunted. 
"I'll  get  me  to  the  bed  in  yonder  room — 'tis 
easier  than  this  couch." 

"Two  hours  ago  you  could  not  bear  the 
bed,  and  must  get  you  to  the  couch — and 
now!  Seigneur,  do  you  know  the  weight 
you  are?"  he  added,  laughing,  as  he  stooped, 
and,  helping  Lempriere  gently  to  his  feet, 
237 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

raised  him  slowly  in  his  arms  and  went 
heavily  with  him  to  the  bedroom.  Angele 
watched  him  with  a  strange  thrill  of  timid 
admiration  and  delight.  Surely  it  could  not 
be  that  Michel — her  Michel — could  be  bought 
from  his  allegiance  by  any  influence  on  earth. 
There  was  the  same  old  simple  laugh  on  his 
lips  as,  with  chaffing  words,  he  carried  the 
huge  seigneur  to  the  other  room.  Her  heart 
acquitted  him  then  and  there  of  all  blame, 
past  or  to  come. 

"Michel!"  she  said  aloud,  involuntarily — 
the  call  of  her  spirit  which  spoke  on  her  lips 
against  her  will. 

De  la  For£t  had  helped  Lempriere  to  the 
bed  again  as  he  heard  his  name  called,  and 
he  stood  suddenly  still,  looking  straight  be- 
fore him  into  space.  Angele's  voice  seemed 
ghostly  and  unreal. 

"Michel!"  he  heard  again,  and  he  came 
forward  into  the  room  where  she  was.  Yet 
once  again  she  said  the  word  scarcely  above 
a  whisper,  for  the  look  of  rapt  wonder  and 
apprehension  in  his  manner  overcame  her. 
Now  he  turned  towards  her,  where  she  stood 
238 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

in  the  shadow  by  the  door.  He  saw  her,  but 
even  yet  he  did  not  stir,  for  she  seemed  to 
him  still  an  apparition. 

With  a  little  cry  she  came  forward  to  him. 
"Michel — help  me!"  she  murmured,  and 
stretched  out  her  hands. 

With  a  cry  of  joy  he  took  her  in  his  arms, 
and  pressed  her  to  his  heart.  Then  a  real- 
ization of  danger  came  to  him. 

"Why  did  you  come?"  he  asked. 

She  told  him  hastily.  He  heard  with  as- 
tonishment, and  then  said:  "There  is  some 
foul  trick  here.  Have  you  the  message?" 
She  handed  it  to  him.  "It  is  the  surgeon's 
writing,  verily,"  he  said;  "but  it  is  still  a 
trick,  for  the  sick  man  here  is  Rozel.  I  see  it 
all.  You  and  I  forbidden  to  meet — it  was  a 
trick  to  bring  you  here!" 

"Oh,  let  me  go!"  she  cried.  "Michel, 
Michel,  take  me  hence  1"  She  turned  tow- 
ards the  door. 

"The  gates  are  closed,"  he  said,  as  a  can- 
non boomed  on  the  evening  air. 

Angele  trembled  violently.  "Oh,  what  will 
come  of  this?"  she  cried,  in  tearful  despair. 
239 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"Be  patient,  sweet,  and  let  me  think,"  he 
answered. 

At  that  moment  there  came  a  knocking  at 
the  door,  then  it  was  thrown  open,  and  there 
stepped  inside  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  pre- 
ceded by  a  page  bearing  a  torch. 

"Is  Michel  de  la  Foret  within?"  he  called; 
then  stopped  short,  as  though  astonished, 
seeing  Angele. 

"So!  so!"  he  said,  with  a  contemptuous 
laugh. 

Michel  de  la  ForeVs  fingers  twitched.  He 
quickly  stepped  in  front  of  Angele,  and  an- 
swered: "What  is  your  business  here,  my 
lord?" 

Leicester  languorously  took  off  a  glove,  and 
seemed  to  stifle  a  yawn  in  it;  then  said:  "I 
came  to  take  you  into  my  service,  to  urge 
upon  you  for  your  own  sake  to  join  my 
troops,  going  upon  duty  in  the  North ;  for  I 
fear  that  if  you  stay  here  the  Queen  Mother 
of  France  will  have  her  way.  But  I  fear  I 
am  too  late.  A  man  who  has  sworn  himself 
into  service  d 'amour  has  no  time  for  service 
de  la  guerre." 

240 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  I  will  gladly  give  an  hour  from  any  ser- 
vice I  may  follow  to  teach  the  Earl  of  Leices- 
ter that  he  is  less  a  swordsman  than  a  trick- 
ster." 

Leicester  flushed,  but  answered  coolly:  "I 
can  understand  your  chagrin.  You  should 
have  locked  your  door.  It  is  the  safer  cus- 
tom." He  bowed  slightly  towards  Angele. 
"You  have  not  learned  our  English  habits 
of  discretion,  Monsieur  de  la  For£t.  I  would 
only  do  you  service.  I  appreciate  your 
choler.  I  should  be  no  less  indignant.  So, 
in  the  circumstances,  I  will  see  that  the 
gates  are  opened — of  course  you  did  not 
realize  the  flight  of  time — and  I  will  take 
mademoiselle  to  her  lodgings.  You  may 
rely  on  my  discretion.  I  am  wholly  at  your 
service — tout  a  vous,  as  who  should  say  in 
your  charming  language." 

The  insolence  was  so  veiled  in  perfect  out- 
ward courtesy  that  it  must  have  seemed  im- 
possible for  De  la  Fore*t  to  reply  in  terms 
equal  to  the  moment.  He  had,  however,  no 
need  to  reply,  for  the  door  of  the  room  sud- 
denly opened,  and  two  pages  stepped  inside 
241 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

with  torches.  They  were  followed  by  a 
gentleman  in  scarlet  and  gold,  who  said, 
"The  Queen!"  and  stepped  aside. 

An  instant  afterwards  Elizabeth,  with  the 
Duke's  Daughter,  entered. 

The  three  dropped  upon  their  knees,  and 
Elizabeth  waved  without  the  pages  and  the 
gentleman-in-waiting. 

When  the  doors  closed,  the  Queen  eyed 
the  three  kneeling  figures,  and  as  her  glance 
fell  on  Leicester  a  strange  glitter  came  into 
her  eyes.  She  motioned  all  to  rise,  and,  with 
a  hand  upon  the  arm  of  the  Duke's  Daughter, 
said  to  Leicester: 

"What  brings  the  Earl  of  Leicester  here?'' 

"I  came  to  urge  upon  monsieur  the  wis- 
dom of  holding  to  the  Sword,  and  leaving  the 
Book  to  the  butter-fingered  religious.  Your 
Majesty  needs  good  soldiers." 

He  bowed,  but  not  low,  and  it  was  clear 
he  was  bent  upon  a  struggle.  He  was  con- 
founded by  the  Queen's  presence — he  could 
not  guess  why  she  should  have  come;  and 
that  she  was  prepared  for  what  she  saw  was 
clear. 

242 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"And  brought  an  eloquent  pleader  with 
you?"  She  made  a  scornful  gesture  towards 
Angele. 

"  Nay,  your  Majesty ;  the  lady's  zeal  out- 
ran my  own,  and  crossed  the  threshold  first." 

The  Queen's  face  wore  a  look  that  Leicester 
had  never  seen  on  it  before,  and  he  had  ob- 
served it  in  many  moods. 

"You  found  the  lady  here,  then?" 

"With  monsieur,  alone.  Seeing  she  was 
placed  unfortunately,  I  offered  to  escort  her 
hence  to  her  father.  But  your  Majesty  came 
upon  the  moment." 

There  was  a  ring  of  triumph  in  Leicester's 
voice.  No  doubt,  by  some  chance,  the  Queen 
had  become  aware  of  Angele's  presence,  he 
thought.  Fate  had  forestalled  the  letter  he 
had  already  written  on  this  matter,  and 
meant  to  send  her  within  the  hour.  Chance 
had  played  into  his  hands  with  perfect  suav- 
ity. The  Queen,  less  woman  now  than  queen, 
enraged  by  the  information  got  he  knew  not 
how,  had  come  at  once  to  punish  the  gross 
breach  of  her  orders  and  a  dark  misconduct 
— so  he  thought. 

243 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

The  Queen's  look,  as  she  turned  it  on 
Angele,  apparently  had  in  it  what  must  have 
struck  terror  to  even  a  braver  soul  than  that 
of  the  helpless  Huguenot  girl. 

"And  it  is  thus  you  spend  the  hours  of 
night?  God's  faith,  but  you  are  young  to 
be  so  wanton!"  she  cried,  in  a  sharp  voice. 
"Get  you  from  my  sight,  and  out  of  my 
kingdom  as  fast  as  horse  and  ship  may  carry 
you,  as  feet  may  bear  you."  Leicester's 
face  lighted  to  hear. 

"Your  high  Majesty,"  pleaded  the  girl, 
dropping  on  her  knees,  "  I  am  innocent.  As 
God  lives,  I  am  innocent." 

"The  man,  then,  only  is  guilty?"  the 
Queen  rejoined,  with  scorn.  "  Is  it  innocent 
to  be  here  at  night,  my  palace  gates  shut, 
with  your  lover — alone  ? ' '  Leicester  laughed 
at  the  words. 

"Your  Majesty,  oh,  your  gracious  Maj- 
esty, hear  me.  We  were  not  alone — not 
alone — " 

There  was  a  rustle  of  curtains,  a  heavy 
footstep,  and  Lempriere  of  Rozel  staggered 
into  the  room.  De  la  Foret  ran  to  help  him, 
244 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

and,  throwing  an  arm  around  him,  almost 
carried  him  towards  the  couch.  Lempriere, 
however,  slipped  from  De  la  Foret's  grasp  to 
his  knees  on  the  floor  before  the  Queen. 

"  Not  alone,  your  high  and  sacred  Majesty — 
I  am  here — I  have  been  here  through  all.  I 
was  here  when  mademoiselle  came,  brought 
hither  by  trick  of  some  knave  not  fit  to  be 
your  immortal  Majesty's  subject.  I  speak 
the  truth,  for  I  am  butler  to  your  Majesty, 
and  no  liar.  I  am  Lempriere  of  Rozel." 

No  man's  self-control  could  meet  such  a 
surprise  without  wavering.  Leicester  was 
confounded,  for  he  had  not  known  that  Lem- 
priere was  housed  with  De  la  Foret.  For  a 
moment  he  could  do  naught  but  gaze  at 
Lempriere.  Then,  as  the  seigneur  suddenly 
swayed,  and  would  have  fallen,  the  instinct 
of  effective  courtesy,  strong  in  him,  sent  him 
with  arms  outstretched  to  lift  him  up.  To- 
gether, without  a  word,  he  and  De  la  Foret 
carried  him  to  the  couch  and  laid  him  down. 

That  single  act  saved  Leicester's  life. 
There  was  something  so  naturally  (though, 
in  truth,  it  was  so  hypocritically)  kind  in 

17  245 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

the  way  he  sprang  to  his  enemy's  assistance 
that  an  old  spirit  of  fondness  stirred  in  the 
Queen's  breast,  and  she  looked  strangely  at 
him.  When,  however,  they  had  disposed  of 
Lempri£re,  and  Leicester  had  turned  again 
towards  her,  she  said: 

"Did  you  think  I  had  no  loyal  and  true 
gentlemen  at  my  court,  my  lord?  Did  you 
think  my  leech  would  not  serve  me  as  fair 
as  he  would  serve  the  Earl  of  Leicester  ?  Ye 
have  not  bought  us  all,  Robert  Dudley,  who 
have  bought  and  sold  so  long.  The  good 
leech  did  your  bidding  and  sent  your  note  to 
the  lady ;  but  there  your  bad  play  ended  and 
Fate's  began.  A  rabbit's  brains,  Leicester — 
and  a  rabbit's  end.  Fate  has  the  brains  you 
need." 

Leicester's  anger  burst  forth  now  under 
the  lash  of  ridicule.  "  I  cannot  hope  to  win 
when  your  Majesty  plays  Fate  in  carica- 
ture." 

With  a  little  gasp  of  rage  Elizabeth  leaned 
over  and  slapped  his  face  with  her  long  glove. 
" Death  of  my  life!  but  I  who  made  you  do 
unmake  you,"  she  cried. 
246 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

He  dropped  his  hand  on  his  sword.  "If 
you  were  but  a  man — and  not — "  he  said, 
then  stopped  short,  for  there  was  that  in  the 
Queen's  face  which  changed  his  purpose. 

Anger  was  shaking  her,  but  there  were  tears 
in  her  eyes.  The  woman  in  her  was  stronger 
than  the  queen.  It  was  nothing  to  her  at 
this  moment  that  she  might  have  his  life  as 
easily  as  she  had  struck  his  face  with  her 
glove;  this  man  had  once  shown  the  better 
part  of  himself  to  her,  and  the  memory  of  it 
shamed  her  for  his  own  sake  now.  She 
made  a  step  towards  the  door,  then  turned 
and  spoke: 

"  My  lord,  I  have  no  palace  and  no  ground 
wherein  your  footstep  will  not  be  trespass. 
Pray  you,  remember." 

She  turned  towards  Lempriere,  who  lay 
on  his  couch  faint  and  panting.  "For 
you,  my  Lord  of  Rozel,  I  wish  you  better 
health,  though  you  have  lost  it  somewhat 
in  a  good  cause." 

Her  glance  fell  on  De  la  Fore"t.  Her  look 
softened.  "  I  will  hear  you  preach  next  Sun- 
day, sir." 

247 


There  was  an  instant's  pause,  and  then 
she  said  to  Angele,  with  gracious  look  and 
in  a  low  voice:  "You  have  heard  from  me 
that  calumny  which  the  innocent  never  es- 
cape. To  try  you,  I  neglected  you  these 
many  days;  to  see  your  nature  even  more 
truly  than  I  knew  it,  I  accused  you  but  now. 
You  might  have  been  challenged  first  by  one 
who  could  do  you  more  harm  than  Elizabeth 
of  England,  whose  office  is  to  do  good,  not 
evil.  Nets  are  spread  for  those  whose  hearts 
are  simple,  and  your  feet  have  been  caught. 
Be  thankful  that  we  understand;  and  know 
that  Elizabeth  is  your  loving  friend.  You 
have  had  trials  —  I  have  kept  you  in  sus- 
pense—  there  has  been  trouble  for  us  all; 
but  we  are  better  now;  our  minds  are  more 
content;  so  all  may  be  well,  please  God! 
You  will  rest  this  night  with  our  lady-dove 
here,  and  to-morrow  early  you  shall  return 
in  peace  to  your  father.  You  have  a  good 
friend  in  our  cousin."  She  made  a  gentle 
motion  towards  the  Duke's  Daughter.  "  She 
has  proved  it  so.  In  my  leech  she  has  a 
slave.  To  her  you  owe  this  help  in  time  of 
248 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

need.  She  hath  wisdom,  too,  and  we  must 
listen  to  her,  even  as  I  have  done  this  day." 

She  inclined  her  head  towards  the  door. 
Leicester  opened  it,  and  as  she  passed  out 
she  gave  him  one  look  which  told  him  that 
his  game  was  lost,  if  not  forever,  yet  for 
time  uncertain  and  remote.  "  You  must  not 
blame  the  leech,  my  lord,"  she  said,  sudden- 
ly turning  back.  "The  Queen  of  England 
has  first  claim  on  the  duty  of  her  subjects. 
They  serve  me  for  love;  you  they  help  at 
need  as  time-servers." 

She  stepped  on,  then  paused  again  and 
looked  back.  "And  I  forbid  fighting  be* 
twixt  you,"  she  said,  in  a  loud  voice,  looking 
at  De  la  Fore't  and  Leicester. 

Without  further  sign  or  look,  she  moved 
on.  Close  behind  came  Angele  and  the 
Duke's  Daughter,  and  Leicester  followed  at 
some  distance. 


XVIII 


OT  far  from  the  palace,  in 
a  secluded  place  hidden  by 
laburnum,  roses,  box,  and 
rhododendrons,  there  was 
a  quaint  and  beautiful  re- 
treat. High  up  on  all 
sides  of  a  circle  of  green  the  flowering  trees 
and  shrubs  interlaced  their  branches,  and 
the  grass,  as  smooth  as  velvet,  was  of  such 
a  note  as  soothed  the  eye  and  quieted  the 
senses.  In  one  segment  of  the  verdant  cir- 
cle was  a  sort  of  open  bower  made  of  poles, 
up  which  roses  climbed  and  hung  across  in 
gay  festoons;  and  in  two  other  segments 
mossy  banks  made  resting-places.  Here;  in 
days  gone  by,  when  Robert  Dudley,  Earl  of 
Leicester,  first  drew  the  eyes  of  his  Queen 
upon  him,  Elizabeth  came  to  listen  to  his 
vows  of  allegiance  which  swam  in  floods  of 
250 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

passionate  devotion  to  her  person.  Chris- 
topher Hatton,  Sir  Henry  Lee,  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  the  Earl  of  Sussex,  a  race  of  gallants, 
had  knelt  upon  this  pleasant  sward.  Here 
they  had  declared  a  devotion  that,  histori- 
cally platonic,  had  a  personal  passion  which, 
if  rewarded  by  no  personal  requital,  must 
have  been  an  expensive  outlay  of  patience 
and  emotion. 

But  those  days  had  gone.  Robert  Dud- 
ley had  advanced  far  past  his  fellows,  had 
locked  himself  into  the  chamber  of  the 
Queen's  confidence,  had  for  long  proved  him- 
self necessary  to  her,  had  mingled  deference 
and  admiration  with  an  air  of  monopoly, 
and  had  then  advanced  to  an  air  of  posses- 
sion, of  suggested  control.  Then  had  begun 
his  decline.  England  and  England's  Queen 
could  have  but  one  ruler,  and  upon  an  oc- 
casion in  the  past  Elizabeth  made  it  clear  by 
the  words  she  used:  "God's  death,  my  lord! 
I  have  wished  you  well ;  but  my  favor  is  not 
so  locked  up  for  you  that  others  shall  not 
partake  thereof;  and,  if  you  think  to  rule 
here,  I  will  take  a  course  to  see  you  forth- 
251 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

coming.  I  will  have  here  but  one  mistress 
and  no  master." 

In  these  words  she  but  declared  what  was 
the  practice  of  her  life,  the  persistent  pas- 
sion of  her  rule.  The  world  could  have  but 
one  sun,  and  every  man  or  woman  who 
sought  its  warmth  must  be  a  sun-worshipper. 
There  could  be  no  divided  faith,  no  lumi- 
naries in  the  sky  save  those  which  lived  by 
borrowed  radiance. 

Here  in  this  bright  theatre  of  green  and 
roses,  poets  had  sung  the  praises  of  this  Queen 
to  her  unblushing  and  approving  face;  here 
ladies  thrice  as  beautiful  as  she  had  begged 
her  to  tell  them  the  secret  of  her  beauty,  so 
much  greater  than  that  of  any  living  woman ; 
and  she  was  pleased  even  when  she  knew 
they  flattered  but  to  gain  her  smile — it  was 
the  tribute  that  power  exacts.  The  place 
was  a  cenotaph  of  past  romance  and  pleas- 
ure. Every  leaf  of  every  tree  and  flower  had 
impressions  of  glories,  of  love,  ambition,  and 
intrigue,  of  tears  and  laughter,  of  joyousness 
and  ruin.  Never  a  spot  in  England  where 
so  much  had  been  said  and  done,  so  far- 
252 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

reaching  in  effect  and  influence.  But  its 
glory  was  departed,  its  day  was  done,  it  was 
a  place  of  dreams  and  memories:  the  Queen 
came  here  no  more.  Many  years  had  with- 
ered since  she  had  entered  this  charmed  spot; 
and  that  it  remained  so  fine  was  but  evidence 
of  the  care  of  those  to  whom  she  had  given 
strict  orders  seven  years  past  that  in  and 
out  of  season  it  must  be  ever  kept  as  it  had 
erstwhile  been.  She  had  never  entered  the 
place  since  the  day  the  young  Marquis  of 
Wessex,  whom  she  had  imprisoned  for  mar- 
rying secretly  and  without  her  consent,  on 
his  release  came  here,  and,  with  a  concen- 
trated bitterness  and  hate,  had  told  her  such 
truths  as  she  never  had  heard  from  man  or 
woman  since  she  was  born.  He  had  im- 
peached her  in  such  cold  and  murderous 
terms  as  must  have  made  wince  even  a  wom- 
an with  no  pride.  To  Elizabeth  it  was  gall 
and  wormwood.  When  he  at  last  demanded 
the  life  of  the  young  wife  who  had  died  in 
enforced  seclusion,  because  she  had  married 
the  man  she  loved,  Elizabeth  was  so  con- 
founded that  she  hastily  left  the  place,  say- 
253 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

ing  no  word  in  response.  This  attack  had 
been  so  violent,  so  deadly,  that  she  had 
seemed  unnerved,  and  forbore  to  command 
him  to  the  Tower  or  to  death. 

"You,  in  whose  breast  love  never  stirred, 
deny  the  right  to  others  whom  God  blessed 
with  it,"  he  cried.  "  Envious  of  mortal  hap- 
piness that  dare  exist  outside  your  will  or 
gift,  you  sunder  and  destroy.  You,  in  whose 
hands  was  power  to  give  joy,  gave  death. 
What  you  have  sown  you  shall  reap.  Here, 
on  this  spot,  I  charge  you  with  high  treason, 
with  treachery  to  the  people  over  whom  you 
have  power  as  a  trust,  which  trust  you  have 
made  a  scourge." 

With  such  words  as  these  he  had  assailed 
her,  and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  had 
been  confounded.  In  safety  he  had  left  the 
place  and  taken  his  way  to  Italy,  from  which 
he  had  never  returned,  though  she  had  sent 
for  him  in  kindness.  Since  that  day  Eliza- 
beth had  never  come  hither;  and  by-and-by 
none  of  her  court  came  save  the  Duke's 
Daughter,  and  her  fool,  who  both  made  it 
their  resort.  Here  the  fool  came  upon  the 
254 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Friday  before  Trinity  Day,  bringing  with 
him  Lempriere  and  Buonespoir,  to  whom  he 
had  much  attached  himself. 

It  was  a  day  of  light  and  warmth,  and 
the  place  was  like  a  basket  of  roses.  Hav- 
ing seen  the  two  serving-men  dispose,  in 
a  convenient  place,  the  refreshment  which 
Lempriere's  appetite  compelled,  the  fool 
took  command  of  the  occasion,  and  made 
the  two  sit  upon  a  bank,  while  he  prepared 
the  repast. 

It  was  a  notable  trio;  the  dwarfish  fool, 
with  his  shaggy,  black  head,  twisted  mouth, 
and  watchful,  wandering  eye,  whose  foolish- 
ness was  but  the  flaunting  cover  of  shrewd 
observation  and  trenchant  vision.  Going 
where  he  would,  and  saying  what  he  listed, 
now  in  the  Queen's  inner  chamber,  then  in 
the  midst  of  the  council,  unconsidered,  and 
the  butt  of  all,  he  paid  for  his  bed  and  bounty 
by  shooting  shafts  of  foolery,  which  as  often 
made  his  listeners  shrink  as  caused  their 
laughter.  The  Queen  he  called  Delicio,  and 
Leicester,  Obligate — as  one  who  piped  to 
another's  dance.  He  had  taken  to  Buones- 
255 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

poir  at  the  first  glance,  and  had  frequented 
him,  and  Lempriere  had  presently  been  add- 
ed to  his  favor.  He  had  again  and  again 
been  messenger  between  them,  as  also  of  late 
between  Angele  and  Michel,  whose  case  he 
viewed  from  a  stand-point  of  great  cheerful- 
ness, and  treated  as  children  playing  on  the 
sands — as,  indeed,  he  did  the  Queen  and  all 
near  to  her.  But  Buonespoir,  the  pirate, 
was  to  him  reality  and  the  actual,  and  he 
called  him  Bono  Publico.  At  first  Lem- 
priere, ever  jealous  of  his  importance,  was 
inclined  to  treat  him  with  elephantine  con- 
descension; but  he  could  not  long  hold  out 
against  the  boon  archness  of  the  jester,  and 
had  collapsed  suddenly  into  as  close  a  friend- 
ship as  that  between  himself  and  Buones- 
poir. 

A  rollicking  spirit  was  his  own  fullest 
stock-in-trade,  and  it  won  him  like  a  brother. 

So  it  was  that  here,  in  the  very  bosom  of 
the  forest,  lured  by  the  pipe  the  fool  played, 
Lempriere  burst  forth  into  song,  in  one  hand 
a  bottle  of  canary,  in  the  other  a  handful  of 
comfits : 

256 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"Duke  William  was  a  Norman 
(Spread  the  sail  to  the  breeze!) 
That  did  to  England  ride; 
At  Hastings  by  the  Channel 
(Drink  the  wine  to  the  lees!) 
Our  Harold  the  Saxon  died. 
If  there  be  no  cakes  from  Normandy, 
There'll  be  more  ale  in  England!" 

"Well  sung,  nobility,  and  well  said,"  cried 
Buonespoir,  with  a  rose  by  the  stem  in  his 
mouth,  one  hand  beating  time  to  the  music, 
the  other  clutching  a  flagon  of  muscadella; 
"for  the  Normans  are  kings  in  England,  and 
there's  drink  in  plenty  at  the  court  of  our 
Lady  Duchess." 

"  Delicio  shall  never  want  while  I  have  a 
penny  of  hers  to  spend,"  quoth  the  fool,  feel- 
ing for*  another  tune. 

"Should  conspirators  prevail,  and  the 
damnedest  be,  she  hath  yet  the  Manor  of 
Rozel  and  my  larder,"  urged  Lempriere, 
with  a  splutter  through  the  canary. 

"That  shall  be  only  when  the  fifth  wind 
comes — it  is  so  ordained,  Nuncio!"  said  the 
fool,  blinking. 

Buonespoir  set  down  his  flagon.     "And 

257 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

what  wind  is  the  fifth  wind?"  he  asked, 
scratching  his  bullet  -  head,  his  childlike, 
wide-spread  eyes  smiling  the  question. 

"There  be  now  four  winds  —  the  north 
wind,  and  his  sisters,  the  east,  the  west,  and 
south.  When  God  sends  a  fifth  wind,  then 
conspirators  shall  wear  crowns.  Till  then 
Delicio  shall  sow  and  I  shall  reap,  as  is 
Heaven's  will." 

Lempriere  lay  back  and  roared  with 
laughter.  "  Before  Belial,  there  never  was 
such  another  as  thou,  fool.  Conspirators 
shall  die  and  not  prevail,  for  a  man  may  not 
marry  his  sister,  and  the  north  wind  shall 
have  no  progeny.  So  there  shall  be  no  fifth 
wind." 

"Proved,  proved!"  cried  the  fool.  "The 
north  wind  shall  go  whistle  for  a  mate — there 
shall  be  no  fifth  wind.  So  Delicio  shall  still 
sail  by  the  compass,  and  shall  still  compass 
all,  and  yet  be  compassed  by  none;  for  it  is 
written,  Who  compasseth  Delicio  existeth 
not." 

Buonespoir  watched  a  lark  soaring,  as 
though  its  flight  might  lead  him  through  the 
258 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

fool's  argument  clearly.  Lempriere  closed 
his  eye  and  struggled  with  it,  his  lips  out- 
pursed,  his  head  sunk  on  his  breast.  Sud- 
denly his  eyes  opened ;  he  brought  the  bottle 
of  canary  down  with  a  thud  on  the  turf. 
"  'Fore  Michael  and  all  angels,  I  have  it,  fool; 
I  travel,  I  conceive.  De  Carteret  of  St. 
Ouen's  must  have  gone  to  the  block  ere  con- 
ceiving so.  I  must  conceive  thus  of  the  ar- 
gument. He  who  compasseth  the  Queen 
existeth  not,  for,  compassing,  he  dieth." 

"So  it  is  by  the  hour-glass  and  the  fort- 
une told  in  the  porringer.  You  have  con- 
ceived like  a  man,  Nuncio." 

"And  conspirators,  I  conceive,  must  die, 
so  long  as  there  be  honest  men  to  slay  them," 
rejoined  the  seigneur. 

"  Must  only  honest  men  slay  conspirators? 
Oh,  Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego!" 
wheezed  Buonespoir,  with  a  grin.  He  placed 
his  hand  upon  his  head  in  self-pity.  "  Buones- 
poir, art  thou  damned  by  muscadella?"  he 
murmured. 

"But  thou  art  purged  of  the  past,  Bono 
Publico,"  answered  the  fool.  "Since  Deli- 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

cio  hath  looked  upon  thee  she  hath  shredded 
the  Tyburn  lien  upon  thee — thou  art  flushed 
like  a  mountain  spring;  and  conspirators 
shall  fall  down  by  thee  if  thou,  passant,  dost 
fall  by  conspirators  in  the  way.  Bono  Pub- 
lico,  thou  shalt  live  by  good  company. 
Henceforth  contraband  shall  be  spurned 
and  the  book  of  grace  opened." 

Buonespoir's  eyes  laughed  like  a  summer 
sky,  but  he  scratched  his  head  and  turned 
over  the  rose-stem  in  his  mouth  reflectively. 
"  So  be  it,  then,  if  it  must  be;  but  yesterday 
the  Devon  sea-sweeper,  Francis  Drake,  over- 
hauled me  in  my  cottage,  coming  from  the 
Queen,  who  had  infused  him  of  me.  '  I  have 
heard  of  you  from  a  high  mast-head,'  said  he. 
'If  the  Spanish  main  allure  you,  come  with 
me.  There  be  galleons  yonder  still;  they 
shall  cough  up  doubloons.'  '  It  hath  a  sound 
of  piracy,'  said  I.  'I  am  expurgated.  My 
name  is  written  on  clean  paper  now,  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Queen!'  'Tut,  tut, 
Buonesperado,'  laughed  he,  'you  shall  forget 
that  Tyburn  is  not  a  fable  if  you  care  to 
have  doubloons  reminted  at  the  Queen's  mint. 
260 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

It  is  meet  Spanish  Philip's  head  be  molted 
to  oblivion,  and  Elizabeth's  raised,  so  that 
good  silver  be  purged  of  Popish  alloy.'  But 
that  I  had  sworn  by  the  little  finger  of  St. 
Peter,  when  the  moon  was  full,  never  to  leave 
the  English  seas,  I  also  would  have  gone 
with  Drake  of  Devon  this  day.  It  is  a  man 
and  a  master  of  men,  that  Drake  of  Devon." 

"  Tis  said  that  when  a  man  hath  naught 
left  but  life,  and  hath  treated  his  honor  like 
a  poor  relation,  he  goes  to  the  Spanish  main 
with  Drake  and  Grenville,"  said  Lempriere. 

"  Then  must  Obligate  go,  for  he  hath  such 
credentials,"  said  the  fool,  blowing  thistle- 
down in  the  air.  "Yesterday  was  no  Palm 
Sunday  to  Leicester.  Delicio's  head  was 
high.  'Imperial  Majesty,'  quoth  Obligate, 
his  knees  upon  the  rushes, '  take  my  life,  but 
send  me  not  forth  into  darkness  where  I 
shall  see  my  Queen  no  more.  By  the  light 
of  my  Queen's  eyes  have  I  walked,  and  pains 
of  hell  are  my  Queen's  displeasure.'  'Me- 
thinks  thy  humbleness  is  tardy,'  quoth  Deli- 
cio.  'No  cock  shall  crow  by  my  nest,'  said 
she.  'And,  by  the  mantle  of  Elijah,  I  am 
18  261 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

out  with  sour  faces  and  men  of  phlegm  and 
rheum.  I  will  be  gay  once  more.  So  get 
thee  gone  to  Kenilworth,  and  stray  not  from 
it  on  thy  peril.  Take  thy  malaise  with  thee, 
and  I  shall  laugh  again.'  And  he  goeth. 
So  that  was  the  end  of  Obligate,  and  now 
cometh  another  tune." 

"She  hath  good  cheer?"  asked  Lernpriere, 
eagerly. 

"I  have  never  seen  Delicio  smile  these 
seven  years  as  she  smiled  to-day;  and  when 
she  kissed  Amicitia  I  sent  for  my  confessor 
and  made  my  will.  Delicio  hath  come  to 
spring-time,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  in 
her  ear." 

"Amicitia — and  who  is  Amicitia?"  asked 
Lempriere,  well  flushed  with  wine. 

"She  who  hath  brought  Obligate  to  the 
diminuendo  and  finale,"  answered  the  fool; 
"  even  she  who  hath  befriended  the  Hugue- 
nottine  of  the  black  eyes." 

"Ah,  she,  the  Duke's  Daughter — ah,  that 

is  a  flower  of  a  lady!     Did  she  not  say  that 

my  jerkin  fitted  featly  when  I  did  act  as 

butler  to  her  adorable  Majesty  three  months 

262 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

syne?  She  hath  no  mate  in  the  world  save 
Mademoiselle  Aubert,  whom  I  brought  hith- 
er to  honor  and  to  fame." 

"To  honor  and  fame,  was  it — but  by  the 
hill  of  desperandum,  Nuncio,"  said  the  fool, 
prodding  him  with  his  stick  of  bells. 

"'Desperandum!'  I  know  not  Latin,  it 
amazes  me,"  said  Lempriere,  waving  a  lofty 
hand. 

"She — the  Huguenottine — was  a-mazed, 
also,  and  from  the  maze  was  played  by  Ob- 
ligate." 

"How  so!  how  so!"  cried  the  seigneur, 
catching  at  his  meaning.  "Did  Leicester 
waylay  and  siege?  'Sblood,  had  I  known 
this  I'd  have  broached  him  and  swallowed 
him  even  on  crutches!" 

"  She  made  him  raise  the  siege,  she  turned 
his  own  guns  upon  him,  and  in  the  end  hath 
driven  him  hence." 

By  rough  questioning  Lempriere  got  from 
the  fool,  by  snatches,  the  story  of  the  meet- 
ing in  the  maze,  which  had  left  Leicester 
standing  with  the  jester's  ribboned  bells  in 
his  hand.  Then  the  seigneur  got  to  his 
263 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

feet  and  hugged  the  fool,  bubbling  with 
laughter. 

"By  all  the  blood  of  all  the  saints,  I  will 
give  thee  burial  in  my  own  grave  when  all's 
done,"  he  spluttered;  "for  there  never  was 
such  fooling,  never  such  a  wise  fool  come 
since  Confucius  and  the  Khan.  Good  be  with 
you,  fool,  and  thanks  be  for  such  a  lady. 
Thanks  be  also  for  the  Duke's  Daughter. 
Ah,  how  she  laid  Leicester  out !  She  washed 
him  up  the  shore  like  behemoth,  and  left 
him  gaping." 

Buonespoir  intervened.  "And  what  shall 
come  of  it?  What  shall  be  the  end?  The 
Honey  flower  lies  at  anchor — there  be  three 
good  men  in  waiting,  Shadrach,  Meshach, 
and  Abednego,  and — " 

The  seigneur  interrupted.  "There's  lit- 
tle longer  waiting.  All's  well!  Her  high, 
hereditary  Majesty  smiled  on  me,  when  she 
gave  Leicester  conge"  and  fiery  quittance. 
She  hath  me  in  favor,  and  all  shall  be  well 
with  Michel  and  Angele.  O  fool,  -fool,  fan- 
tastic and  flavored  fool,  sing  me  a  song  of 
good  content,  for  if  this  business  ends  not 
264 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

with  crescendo  and  bell-ringing,  I  am  no 
butler  to  the  Queen  nor  keep  good  com- 
pany!" 

Seating  themselves  upon  the  mossy  bank, 
their  backs  to  the  westward  sun,  the  fool 
peered  into  the  green  shadows  and  sang  with 
a  soft  melancholy  an  ancient  song  that  an- 
other fool  had  sung  to  the  first  Tudor: 

"  When  blows  the  wind  and  drives  the  sleet, 

And  all  the  trees  droop  down; 
When  all  the  world  is  sad,  'tis  meet 
Good  company  be  known: 

And  in  my  heart  good  company 
Sits  by  the  fire  and  sings  to  me. 

"When  warriors  return,  and  one 
That  went  returns  no  more; 
When  dusty  is  the  road  we  run, 
And  garners  have  no  store; 

One  ingle-nook  right  warm  shall  be 
Where  my  heart  hath  good  company. 

When  man  shall  flee  and  woman  fail, 

And  folly  mock  and  hope  deceive, 
Let  cowards  beat  the  breast  and  wail, 
I'll  homeward  hie;  I  will  not  grieve: 
I'll  draw  the  blind,  I'll  there  set  fre 
My  heart's  beloved  boon  company. 

265 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"When  kings  shall  favor,  ladies  call 

My  service  to  their  side; 
When  roses  grow  upon  the  wall 
Of  life,  with  love  inside; 

I'll  get  me  home  with  joy  to  be 
In  my  heart's  own  good  company!" 

"Oh,  fool,  oh,  beneficent  fool,  well  done! 
'Tis  a  song  for  a  man — 'twould  shame  De 
Carteret  of  St.  Ouen's  to  his  knees,"  cried 
Lempriere. 

"Oh,  benignant  fool,  well  done! — 'twould 
draw  me  from  my  meals,"  said  a  voice  be- 
hind the  three,  and  turning  hastily  about 
they  saw,  smiling  and  applausive,  the  Duke's 
Daughter.  Beside  her  was  Angele. 

The  three  got  to  their  feet,  and  each  made 
obeisance  after  his  kind — Buonespoir  duck- 
ing awkwardly,  his  blue  eyes  bulging  with 
pleasure,  Lempriere  swelling  with  vanity 
and  spreading  wide  acknowledgment  of  their 
presence,  the  fool  condescending  a  wave  of 
welcome. 

"Oh,  abundant  Amicitia!"  cried  the  fool 
to  the  Duke's  Daughter,  "thou  art  saved  by 
so  doing.  So  get  thee  to  thanksgiving  and 
God's  mercy." 

266 


'THEY  SAW,  SMILING  AND  APPLAUSIVE,  THE  DUKE  s  DAUGHTER 
AND  ANG&LE" 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"Wherefore  am  I  saved  by  being  drawn 
from  my  meals  by  thy  music,  fool?"  she 
asked,  linking  her  arm  in  Angele's. 

"  Because  thou  art  more  enamoured  of  lam- 
preys than  of  man ;  and  it  is  written  that  thou 
shalt  love  thy  fellow-man,  and  he  that  loveth 
not  is  lost;  therefore,  thou  art  lost  if  thou 
lingerest  at  meals." 

"Is  it  so,  then?  And  this  lady — what 
thinkest  thou?  Must  she  also  abstain  and 
seek  good  company  ?" 

"  No,  verily,  Amicitia,  for  she  is  good  com- 
pany itself,  and  so  she  may  sleep  in  the  lar- 
der and  have  no  fear." 

"  And  what  think  you — shall  she  be  happy  ? 
Shall  she  have  gifts  of  fate?" 

"  Discriminately  so,  Amicitia.  She  shall 
have  souvenirs  and  no  suspicions  of  fate. 
But  she  shall  not  linger  here,  for  all  lingerers 
in  Delicio's  court  are  spied  upon — not  for 
their  souls'  good.  She  shall  go  hence,  and — " 

"Ay,  princely  lady,  she  shall  go  hence," 

interposed  Lempriere,  who  had  panted  to 

speak  and  could  bear  silence    no    longer. 

"  Her  high  Majesty  will  kiss  her  on  the  brow, 

267 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

and  in  Jersey  Isle  she  shall  blossom  and 
bloom  and  know  bounty — or  never  more 
shall  I  have  privilege  and  perquage." 

He  lumbered  forward  and  kissed  Angele's 
hand  as  though  conferring  distinction,  but 
with  great  generosity.  "I  said  that  all 
should  go  well,  and  so  it  shall.  Rozel  shall 
prevail.  The  Queen  knows  on  what  rock  to 
build,  as  I  made  warrant  for  her,  and  will 
still  do  so." 

His  vanity  was  incorrigible,  but  through  it 
ran  so  childlike  a  spirit  that  it  bred  friend- 
ship and  repulsed  not.  The  Duke's  Daughter 
pressed  the  arm  of  Angele,  who  replied: 

"  Indeed,  it  has  been  so  according  to  your 
word,  and  we  are — I  am — shall  ever  be  be- 
holden. In  storm  you  have  been  with  us, 
so  true  a  pilot  and  so  brave  a  sailor;  and  if 
we  come  to  port  and  the  quiet  shore,  there 
shall  be  spread  a  feast  of  remembrance  which 
shall  never  grow  cold,  seigneur." 

"One  ingle-nook  right  warm  shall  be 
Where  my  heart  hath  good  company," 

sang  the  fool,  and   catching  by   the   arm 
268 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Buonespoir,  who  ducked  his  head  in  farewell, 
ran  him  into  the  greenwood.  Angele  came 
forward  as  if  to  stay  Buonespoir,  but  stopped 
short  reflectively.  As  she  did  so  the  Duke's 
Daughter  whispered  quickly  into  Lempriere's 
ear. 

Swelling  with  pride  he  nodded,  and  said, 
"I  will  reach  him  and  discover  myself  to 
him,  and  bring  him,  if  he  stray,  most  un- 
doubted and  infallible  lady,"  and  with  an 
air  of  mystery  he  made  a  heavily  respectful 
exit. 

Left  alone,  the  two  ladies  seated  them- 
selves in  the  bower  of  roses  and  for  a  mo- 
ment were  silent.  Presently  the  Duke's 
Daughter  laughed  aloud. 

"  In  what  seas  of  dear  conceit  swims  your 
leviathan  seigneur,  heart's-ease  ?" 

Angele  stole  a  hand  into  the  cool  palm  of 
the  other. 

"He  was  builded  for  some  lonely  sea  all 
his  own.  Creation  cheated  him.  But  God 
give  me  ever  such  friends  as  he,  and  I  shall, 
indeed,  '  have  good  company '  and  fear  no 
issue."  She  sighed. 

269 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

" Remains  there  still  a  fear?  Did  you  not 
have  good  promise  in  the  Queen's  words  that 
night?" 

"  Ay,  so  it  seemed,  and  so^  it  seemed  be- 
fore— on  May  Day,  and  yet — " 

"And  yet  she  banished  you,  and  tried  you, 
and  kept  you  heart-sick  ?  Sweet,  know  you 
not  how  bitter  a  thing  it  is  to  owe  a  debt  of 
love  to  one  whom  we  have  injured?  So  it 
was  with  her.  The  Queen  is  not  a  saint,  but 
very  woman.  Marriage  she  hath  ever  con- 
temned and  hated;  men  she  hath  desired  to 
keep  her  faithful  and  impassioned  servitors. 
So  does  power  blind  us.  And  the  braver  the 
man,  the  more  she  would  have  him  in  her 
service,  at  her  feet,  the  centre  of  the  world." 

"I  had  served  her  in  a  crisis,  an  hour  of 
peril.  Was  naught  due  me  ?" 

The  Duke's  Daughter  drew  her  close.  "  She 
never  meant  but  that  all  should  be  well. 
And  because  you  had  fastened  on  her  feel- 
ings as  never  I  have  seen  another  of  your 
sex,  so  for  the  moment  she  resented  it ;  and 
because  De  la  Foret  was  yours — ah,  if  you 
had  each  been  naught  to  the  other,  how  easy 
270 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

it  would  have  run!     Do  you  not   under- 
stand?" 

"  Nay,  then,  and  yea,  then — and  I  put  it 
from  me.  See,  am  I  not  happy  now?  Upon 
your  friendship  I  build." 

"Sweet,  I  did  what  I  could.  Leicester 
filled  her  ears  with  poison  every  day,  mixed 
up  your  business  with  great  affairs  with 
France,  sought  to  convey  that  you  both  were 
not  what  you  are,  until  at  last  I  counter- 
marched him."  She  laughed  merrily.  "Ay, 
I  can  laugh  now,  but  it  was  all  hanging  by 
a  thread,  when  my  leech  sent  his  letter  that 
brought  you  to  the  palace.  It  had  grieved 
me  that  I  might  not  seek  you  or  write  to 
you  in  all  those  sad  days ;  but  the  only  way 
to  save  you  was  by  keeping  the  Queen's  com- 
mand ;  for  she  had  known  of  Leicester's  visits 
to  you,  of  your  meeting  in  the  maze,  and  she 
was  set  upon  it  that  alone,  all  alone,  you 
should  be  tried  to  the  last  vestige  of  your 
strength.  If  you  had  failed — " 

"If  I  had  failed—"     Angele  closed   her 
eyes  and  shuddered.     "  I  had  not  cared  for 
myself,  but  Michel — " 
271 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"If  you  had  failed  there  had  been  no 
need  to  grieve  for  Michel.  He  had  not 
grieved  for  thee.  But  see,  the  wind  blows 
fair,  and  in  my  heart  I  have  no  fear  of  the 
end.  You  shall  go  hence  in  peace.  This 
morning  the  Queen  was  happier  than  I  have 
seen  her  these  many  years:  a  light  was  in 
her  eye  brighter  than  showeth  to  the  court. 
She  talked  of  this  place,  recalled  the  hours 
spent  here,  spoke  even  softly  of  Leicester. 
And  that  gives  me  warrant  for  the  future. 
She  has  relief  in  his  banishment,  and  only 
recalls  older  and  happier  days  when,  if  her 
cares  were  no  greater,  they  were  borne  by 
the  buoyancy  of  girlhood  and  youth.  Of 
days  spent  here  she  talked  until  mine  own 
eyes  went  blind.  She  said  it  was  a  place  for 
lovers,  and  if  she  knew  any  two  lovers  who 
were  true  lovers,  and  had  been  long  parted, 
she  would  send  them  here." 

"  There  be  two  true  lovers,  and  they  have 
been  long  parted,"  murmured  Angele. 

"  But  she  commanded  these  lovers  not  to 
meet  till  Trinity  Day,  and  she  brooks  not 
disobedience  even  in  herself.  How  could 
272 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

she  disobey  her  own  commands?  But" — 
her  eyes  were  on  the  greenwood  and  the 
path  that  led  into  the  circle — "  but  she  would 
shut  her  eyes  to-day  and  let  the  world  move 
on  without  her,  let  lovers  thrive  and  birds 
be  nesting  without  heed  or  hap.  Disobe- 
dience shall  thrive  when  the  Queen  connives 
at  it — and  so  I  leave  you  to  your  disobe- 
dience, sweet." 

With  a  laugh  she  sprang  to  her  feet  and 
ran.  Amazed  and  bewildered,  Angele  gazed 
after  her.  As  she  stood  looking  she  heard 
her  name  called  softly. 

Turning,  she  saw  Michel.  They  were 
alone. 


XIX 


HEN  De  la  ForSt  and  Ai> 
gele  saw  the  Queen  again 
it  was  in  the  royal  chapel. 
Perhaps  the  longest  five 
minutes  of  M.  de  la  Foret's 
life  were  those  in  which  he 
waited  the  coming  of  the  Queen  on  that 
Trinity  Sunday  which  was  to  decide  his  fate. 
When  he  saw  Elizabeth  enter  the  chapel  his 
eyes  swam,  till  the  sight  of  them  was  lost  in 
the  blur  of  color  made  by  the  motions  of 
gorgeously  apparelled  courtiers  and  the  peo- 
ple of  the  household.  When  the  Queen  had 
taken  her  seat  and  all  was  quiet,  he  strug- 
gled with  himself  to  put  on  such  a  front  of 
simple  boldness  as  he  would  wear  upon  day 
of  battle.  The  sword  the  Queen  had  given 
him  was  at  his  side,  and  his  garb  was  still 
that  of  a  gentleman,  not  of  a  Huguenot  min- 
274 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

ister  such  as  Elizabeth  in  her  grim  humor, 
and  to  satisfy  her  bond  with  France,  would 
make  of  him  this  day. 

The  brown  of  his  face  had  paled  in  the 
weeks  spent  in  the  palace  and  in  waiting  for 
this  hour;  anxiety  had  toned  the  ruddy  vig- 
or of  his  bearing ;  but  his  figure  was  the  figure 
of  a  soldier  and  his  hand  that  of  a  strong 
man.  He  shook  a  little  as  he  bowed  to  her 
Majesty,  but  that  passed,  and  when  at  last 
his  eye  met  that  of  the  Duke's  Daughter  he 
grew  steady;  for  she  gave  him,  as  plainly  as 
though  her  tongue  spoke,  a  message  from 
Angele.  Angele  herself  he  did  not  see — 
she  was  kneeling  in  an  obscure  corner,  her 
father's  hand  in  hers,  all  the  passion  of  her 
life  pouring  out  in  prayer. 

De  la  Foret  drew  himself 'up  with  an  iron 
will.  No  nobler  figure  of  a  man  ever  es- 
sayed to  preach  the  Word,  and  so  Elizabeth 
thought ;  and  she  repented  of  the  bitter  humor 
which  had  set  this  trial  as  his  chance  of  life  in 
England  and  his  freedom  from  the  hand  of 
Catherine.  The  man  bulked  larger  in  her 
eyes  than  he  had  ever  done,  and  she  strug- 

275 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

gled  with  herself  to  keep  the  vow  she  had 
made  to  the  Duke's  Daughter  the  night  that 
Angele  had  been  found  in  De  la  Foret's 
rooms.  He  had  been  the  immediate  cause, 
fated  or  accidental,  of  the  destined  breach 
between  Leicester  and  herself ;  he  had  played 
a  significant  part  in  her  own  life.  Glancing 
at  her  courtiers,  she  saw  none  that  might 
compare  with  him,  the  form  and  being  of 
calm  boldness  and  courage.  She  sighed  she 
knew  scarce  why. 

When  De  la  Fore~t  first  opened  his  mouth 
and  essayed  to  call  the  worshippers  to  prayer 
no  words  came  forth — only  a  dry  whisper. 
Some  ladies  simpered,  and  more  than  one 
courtier  laughed  silently.  Michel  saw,  and 
his  face  flamed  up.  But  he  laid  a  hand  on 
himself,  and  a  moment  afterwards  his  voice 
came  forth,  clear,  musical,  and  resonant, 
speaking  simple  words,  direct  and  unlacquer- 
ed  sentences,  passionately  earnest  withal. 
He  stilled  the  people  to  a  unison  of  sentiment, 
none  the  less  interested  and  absorbed  be- 
cause it  was  known  that  he  had  been  the 
cause  of  the  great  breach  between  the  Queen 
276 


'AND  WHAT  MATTER  WHICH  IT  is  WE  WIELD'" 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

and  the  favorite.  Ere  he  had  spoken  far, 
flippant  gallants  had  ceased  to  flutter  hand- 
kerchiefs, to  idly  move  their  swords  upon  the 
floor. 

He  took  for  his  text,  "Stand  and  search 
for  the  old  paths."  The  beginning  of  all 
systems  of  religion,  the  coming  of  the  Naza- 
rene,  the  rise  and  growth  of  Christianity,  the 
martyrdoms  of  the  early  Church,  the  invasion 
of  the  truth  by  false  doctrine,  the  abuses  of 
the  Church,  the  Reformation,  the  martyr- 
dom of  the  Huguenots  for  the  return  to  the 
early  principles  of  Christianity,  the  "search 
for  the  old  paths,"  he  set  forth  in  a  tone 
generous  but  not  fiery,  presently  powerful 
and  searching,  yet  not  declamatory.  At  the 
last  he  raised  the  sword  that  hung  by  his  side 
and  the  book  that  lay  before  him,  and  said : 

"And  what  matter  which  it  is  we  wield^ 
this  steel  that  strikes  for  God  or  this  book 
which  speaks  of  Him  ?  For  the  book  is  the 
sword  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  sword  is  the  life 
of  humanity ;  for  all  faith  must  be  fought  for 
and  all  that  is  has  been  won  by  strife.  But 
the  paths  wherein  ye  go  to  battle  must  be 
19  277 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

the  old  paths ;  your  sword  shall  be  your  staff 
by  day  and  the  book  your  lantern  by  night. 
That  which  ye  love  ye  shall  teach,  and  that 
which  ye  teach  ye  shall  defend ;  and  if  your 
love  be  a  true  love  your  teaching  shall  be  a 
great  teaching  and  your  sword  a  strong 
.sword  which  none  may  withstand.  It  shall 
be  the  pride  of  sovereign  and  of  people ;  and 
so  neither  '  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other 
creature  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  God.'" 

Ere  he  had  ended  some  of  the  ladies  were 
overcome,  the  eyes  of  the  Duke's  Daughter 
were  full  of  tears,  and  Elizabeth  said,  audi- 
bly, when  he  ceased  speaking:  "On  my  soul, 
I  have  no  bishop  with  a  tongue  like  his. 
Would  that  my  lord  of  Ely  were  here  to  learn 
how  truth  should  be  spoke.  Henceforth  my 
bishops  shall  first  be  Camisards." 

Of  that  hour's  joyful  business  the  Queen 
wrote  thus  to  the  Medici  before  the  day  was 
done: 

"Cancelling  all  other  letters  on  the  mat- 
ter, this  M.  de  la  Foret  shall  stay  in  my  king- 
dom. I  may  not  be  the  headsman  of  one  of 
278 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

my  faith — as  eloquent  a  preacher  as  he  was 
a  brave  soldier.  Abiding  by  the  strict  terms 
of  our  treaty  with  my  brother  of  France,  he 
shall  stay  with  us  in  peace  and  in  our  own 
care.  He  hath  not  the  eloquence  of  a  Knox, 
but  he  hath  the  true  thing  in  him,  and  that 
speaks." 

To  the  Duke's  Daughter  the  Queen  said, 
"  On  my  soul,  he  shall  be  married  instantly, 
or  my  ladies  will  carry  him  off  and  murder 
him  for  love." 

And  so  it  was  that  the  heart  of  Elizabeth 
the  Queen  warmed  again,  and  dearly,  towards 
two  Huguenot  exiles,  and  showed  that  in 
doing  justice  she  also  had  not  so  sour  a 
heart  towards  her  sex  as  was  set  down  to 
her  credit.  Yet  she  made  one  further  effort 
to  keep  De  la  For£t  in  her  service.  When 
Michel,  once  again,  declined,  dwelt  earnestly 
on  his  duty  towards  the  widow  of  his  dead 
chief,  and  begged  leave  to  share  her  exile  in 
Jersey,  Elizabeth  said,  "On  my  soul,  but  I 
did  not  think  there  was  any  man  on  earth 
so  careless  of  princes'  honors!" 

To  this  De  la  For£  t  replied  that  he  had  given 
279 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

his  heart  and  life  to  one  cause,  and  since 
Montgomery  had  lost  all,  even  life,  the  least 
Michel  de  la  Foret  could  do  was  to  see  that 
the  woman  who  loved  him  be  not  unprotected 
in  the  world.  Also,  since  he  might  not  at 
this  present  fight  for  the  cause,  he  could 
speak  for  it;  and  he  thanked  the  Queen  of 
England  for  having  shown  him  his  duty. 
All  that  he  desired  was  to  be  quiet  for  a 
space  somewhere  in  "her  high  Majesty's 
good  realm  "  till  his  way  was  clear  to  him. 

"You  would  return  to  Jersey,  then,  with 
our  friend  of  Rozel?"  Elizabeth  said,  with  a 
gesture  towards  Lempriere,  who,  now  re- 
covered from  his  wound,  was  present  at  the 
audience. 

De  la  Foret  inclined  his  head.  "If  it  be 
your  high  Majesty's  pleasure." 

And  Lempriere  of  Rozel  said,  "He  would 
return  with  myself  your  noble  Majesty's 
friend  before  all  the  world,  and  Buonespoir 
his  ship  the  Honeyflower." 

Elizabeth's  lips  parted  in  a  smile,  for  she 
was  warmed  with  the  luxury  of  doing  good, 
and  she  answered: 

280 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

"  I  know  not  what  the  end  of  this  will  be, 
whether  our  loyal  Lempriere  will  become  a 
pirate  or  Buonespoir  a  butler  to  my  court; 
but  it  is  too  pretty  a  hazard  to  forego  in  a 
world  of  chance.  By  the  rood,  but  I  have 
never,  since  I  sat  on  my  father's  throne,  seen 
black  so  white  as  I  have  done  this  past  three 
months.  You  shall  have  your  Buonespoir, 
good  Rozel ;  but  if  he  plays  pirate  any  more 
— tell  him  this  from  his  Queen — upon  an 
English  ship,  I  will  have  his  head,  if  I  must 
needs  send  Drake  of  Devon  to  overhaul  him." 

That  same  hour  the  Queen  sent  for  Angele, 
and  by  no  leave,  save  her  own,  arranged  the 
wedding-day,  and  ordained  that  it  should 
take  place  at  Southampton,  whither  the 
Comtesse  de  Montgomery  had  come  on  her 
way  to  Greenwich  to  plead  for  the  life  of 
Michel  de  la  Foret  and  to  beg  Elizabeth  to 
save  her  poverty,  both  of  which  things 
Elizabeth  did,  as  the  annals  of  her  life  re- 
cord. 

After  Elizabeth — ever  self -willed — had  de- 
clared her  way  about  the  marriage  ceremony, 
looking  for  no  reply  save  that  of  silent  obe- 
281 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

dience,  she  made  Angele  sit  at  her  feet  and  tell 
her  whole  story  again  from  first  to  last. 
They  were  alone,  and  Elizabeth  showed  to 
this  young  refugee  more  of  her  own  heart 
than  any  other  woman  had  ever  seen.  Not 
by  words  alone,  for  she  made  no  long  story ; 
but  once  she  stooped  and  kissed  Angele  upon 
the  cheek,  and  once  her  eyes  filled  up  with 
tears,  and  they  dropped  upon  her  lap  un- 
heeded. All  the  devotion  shown  herself  as 
a  woman  had  come  to  naught ;  and  it  may  be 
that  this  thought  stirred  in  her  now.  She 
remembered  how  Leicester  and  herself  had 
parted,  and  how  she  was  denied  all  those  soft 
resources  of  regret  which  were  the  right  of  the 
meanest  women  in  her  realm.  For,  what- 
ever she  might  say  to  her  Parliament  and 
people,  she  knew  that  all  was  too  late — that 
she  would  never  marry,  and  must  go  child- 
less and  uncomforted  to  her  grave.  Years 
upon  years  of  delusion  of  her  people,  of  sac- 
rifice to  policy,  had  at  last  become  a  self- 
delusion,  to  which  her  eyes  were  not  full 
opened  yet — she  sought  to  shut  them  tight. 
But  these  refugees,  coming  at  the  moment  of 
282 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

her  own  struggle,  had  changed  her  heart  from 
an  ever-growing  bitterness  to  human  sym- 
pathy. When  Angele  had  ended  her  tale 
once  more  the  Queen  said: 

"God  knows  ye  shall  not  linger  in  my 
court.  Such  lives  have  no  place  here.  Get 
you  back  to  my  Isle  of  Jersey,  where  ye  may 
live  in  peace.  Here  all  is  noise,  self-seeking, 
and  time-service.  If  ye  twain  are  not  happy 
I  will  say  the  world  should  never  have  been 
made." 

Before  they  lett  Greenwich  Palace — M. 
Aubert  and  Angele,  De  la  For6t,  Lempriere, 
and  Buonespoir — the  Queen  made  Michel  de 
la  Fore't  the  gift  of  a  chaplaincy  to  the  crown. 
To  Monsieur  Aubert  she  gave  a  small  pension, 
and  in  Angele's  hands  she  placed  a  deed  of 
dower  worthy  of  a  generosity  greater  than 
her  own. 

At  Southampton  Michel  and  Angele  were 
married  by  royal  license,  and  with  the  Com- 
tesse  de  Montgomery  set  sail  in  Buones- 
poir's  boat,  the  Honey  flower,  which  brought 
them  safe  to  St.  Helier's,  in  the  Isle  of 
Jersey. 

283 


XX 


OLLOWED  several  happy 
years  for  Michel  and  An- 
gele.  The  protection  of 
the  Queen  herself,  the 
chaplaincy  she  had  given 
De  la  Foret,  the  friendship 
with  the  governor  of  the  island,  and  the 
boisterous  tales  Lempriere  had  told  of  those 
days  at  Greenwich  Palace  quickened  the  sym- 
pathy and  held  the  interest  of  the  people 
at  large,  while  the  simple  lives  of  the  two 
won  their  way  into  the  hearts  of  all,  even, 
at  last,  to  that  of  De  Carteret  of  St.  Ouen's. 
It  was  Angele  herself  who  brought  the  two 
seigneurs  together  at  her  own  good  table; 
and  it  needed  all  her  tact  on  that  occasion 
to  prevent  the  ancient  foes  from  drinking 
all  the  wine  in  her  cellar. 

There  was  no  parish  in  Jersey  that  did  not 
284 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

know  their  goodness,  but  mostly  in  the 
parishes  of  St.  Martin's  and  Rozel  were  their 
faithful  labors  done.  From  all  parts  of  the 
island  people  came  to  hear  Michel  speak, 
though  that  was  but  seldom;  and  when  he 
spoke  he  always  wore  the  sword  the  Queen 
had  given  him  and  used  the  Book  he  had 
studied  in  her  palace.  It  was  to  their  home 
that  Buonespoir  the  pirate — faithful  to  his 
promise  to  the  Queen  that  he  would  harry 
English  ships  no  more — came  wounded,  after 
an  engagement  with  a  French  boat  sent  to 
capture  him,  carried  thither  by  Shadrach, 
Meshach,  and  Abednego.  It  was  there  he 
died,  after  having  drunk  a  bottle  of  St. 
Ouen's  muscadella,  brought  secretly  to  him 
by  his  unchanging  friend  Lempriere,  so  has- 
tening the  end. 

The  Comtesse  de  Montgomery,  who  lived  in 
a  cottage  near  by,  came  constantly  to  the 
little  house  on  the  hill-side  by  Rozel  Bay. 
She  had  never  loved  her  own  children  more 
than  she  did  the  brown-haired  child  with  the 
deep-blue  eyes  which  was  the  one  pledge  of 
the  great  happiness  of  Michel  and  Angele. 
285 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

Soon  after  this  child  was  born  M.  Aubert 
had  been  put  to  rest  in  St..  Martin's  church- 
yard, and  there  his  tombstone  might  be  seen 
so  late  as  a  hundred  years  ago.  So  things 
went  softly  by  for  seven  years,  and  then 
Madame  de  Montgomery  journeyed  to  Eng- 
land, on  invitation  of  the  Queen  and  to  bet- 
ter fortune,  and  Angele  and  De  la  Foret  were 
left  to  their  quiet  life  in  Jersey.  Sometimes 
this  quiet  was  broken  by  bitter  news  from 
France  of  fresh  persecution  and  fresh  strug- 
gle on  the  part  of  the  Huguenots.  There- 
after for  hours,  sometimes  for  days,  De  la 
Foret  would  be  lost  in  sorrowful  and  rest- 
less meditation;  and  then  he  fretted  against 
his  peaceful  calling  and  his  uneventful  life. 
But  the  gracious  hand  of  his  wife  and  the 
eyes  of  his  child  led  him  back  to  cheerful 
ways  again. 

Suddenly  one  day  came  the  fearful  news 
from  England  that  the  plague  had  broken  out 
and  that  thousands  were  dying.  The  flight 
from  London  was  like  the  flight  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel  into  the  desert.  The  dead- 
carts,  filled  with  decaying  bodies,  rattled 
286 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

through  the  foul  streets,  to  drop  their  horrid 
burdens  into  the  great  pit  at  Aldgate;  the 
bells  of  London  tolled  all  day  and  all  night 
for  the  passing  of  human  souls.  Hundreds  of 
homes,  isolated  because  of  a  victim  of  the 
plague  found  therein,  became  ghastly  breed- 
ing-places of  the  disease,  and  then  silent, 
disgusting  graves.  If  a  man  shivered  in  fear 
or  staggered  from  weakness,  or  for  very  hun- 
ger turned  sick,  he  was  marked  as  a  victim, 
and  despite  his  protests  was  huddled  away 
with  the  real  victims  to  die  the  awful  death. 
From  every  church,  where  chrgy  were  left 
to  pray,  went  up  the  cry  for  salvation  from 
"plague,  pestilence,  and  famine."  Scores  of 
ships  from  Holland  and  from  France  lay  in 
the  Channel,  not  allowed  to  touch  the  shores 
of  England  nor  permitted  to  return  whence 
they  came.  On  the  very  day  that  news  of 
this  reached  Jersey  came  a  messenger  from 
the  Queen  of  England  for  Michel  de  la  For£t 
to  hasten  to  her  court,  for  that  she  had  need 
of  him,  and  need  which  would  bring  him 
honor.  Even  as  the  young  officer  who 
brought  the  letter  handed  it  to  De  la  Foret 
287 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

in  the  little  house  on  the  hill-side  above  Rozel 
Bay,  he  was  taken  suddenly  ill  and  fell  at 
the  Camisard's  feet. 

De  la  Foret  straightway  raised  him  in  his 
arms.  He  called  to  his  wife,  but,  bidding 
her  not  come  near,  he  bore  the  doomed  man 
away  to  the  lonely  Ecrehos  rocks  lying  within 
sight  of  their  own  doorway.  Suffering  no 
one  to  accompany  him,  he  carried  the  sick 
man  to  the  boat  which  had  brought  the 
Queen's  messenger  to  Rozel  Bay.  The  sail- 
ors of  the  vessel  fled,  and  alone  De  la  Foret 
set  sail  for  the  Ecrelios. 

There,  upon  the  black  rocks,  the  young 
man  died,  and  Michel  buried  him  in  the 

A 

shore-bed  of  the  Maitre  He.  Then,  after  two 
days — for  he  could  bear  suspense  no  longer — • 
he  set  sail  for  Jersey.  Upon  that  journey 
there  is  no  need  to  dwell.  Any  that  hath 
ever  loved  a  woman  and  a  child  must  under- 
stand. A  deep  fear  held  him  all  the  way, 
and  when  he  stepped  on  shore  at  Rozel  Bay 
he  was  as  one  who  had  come  from  the  grave, 
haggard  and  old. 

Hurrying  up  the  hill-side  to  his  doorway, 
288 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

he  called  aloud  to  his  wife,  to  his  child. 
Throwing  open  the  door,  he  burst  in.  His 
dead  child  lay  upon  a  couch,  and  near  by, 
sitting  in  a  chair,  with  the  sweat  of  the  dy- 
ing on  her  brow,  was  Angele.  As  he  dropped 
on  his  knee  beside  her,  she  smiled  and  raised 
her  hand  as  if  to  touch  him,  but  the  hand 
dropped  and  the  head  fell  forward  on  his 
breast.  She  was  gone  into  a  greater  peace. 

Once  more  Michel  made  a  journey — alone 
— to  the  Ecrehos,  and  there,  under  the  ruins 
of  the  old  Abbey  of  Val  Richer,  he  buried 
the  twain  he  had  loved.  Not  once  in  all  the 
terrible  hours  had  he  shed  a  tear;  not  once 
had  his  hand  trembled ;  his  face  was  like  stone 
and  his  eyes  burned  with  an  unearthly  light. 

He  did  not  pray  beside  the  graves.  But 
he  knelt  and  kissed  the  earth  again  and 
again.  He  had  doffed  his  robes  of  peace, 
and  now  wore  the  garb  of  a  soldier,  armed 
at  all  points  fully.  Rising  from  his  knees, 
he  turned  his  face  towards  Jersey. 

"  Only  mine !  Only  mine !"  he  said,  aloud, 
in  a  dry,  bitter  voice. 

In  the  whole  island,  only  his  loved  ones 
289 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

had  died  of  the  plague.  The  holiness  and 
charity  and  love  of  Michel  and  Angele  had 
ended  so! 

When  once  more  he  set  forth  upon  the 
Channel,  he  turned  his  back  on  Jersey  and 
shaped  his  course  towards  France,  having 
sent  Elizabeth  his  last  excuses  for  declining 
a  service  which  would  have  given  him  hon- 
or, fame,  and  regard.  He  was  bent  upon  a 
higher  duty. 

Not  long  did  he  wait  for  the  death  he 
craved.  Next  year,  in  a  Huguenot  sortie 
from  Anvers,  he  was  slain. 

He  died  with  these  words  on  his  lips: 

"Maintenant,  Angele!" 

In  due  time  the  island  people  forgot  them 
both,  but  the  Seigneur  of  Rozel  caused  a 
stone  to  be  set  up  on  the  highest  point  of 
land  that  faces  France,  and  on  the  stone 
were  carved  the  names  of  Michel  and  Angele. 
Having  done  much  hard  service  for  his  coun- 
try and  for  England's  Queen,  Lempriere  at 
length  hung  up  his  sword  and  gave  his  years 
to  peace.  From  the  Manor  of  Rozel  he  was 
290 


A  Ladder  of  Swords 

wont  to  repair  constantly  to  the  little  white 
house,  which  remained  as  the  two  had  left 
it — his  own  by  order  of  the  Queen — and 
there,  as  time  went  on,  he  spent  most  of  his 
days.  To  the  last  he  roared  with  laughter 
if  ever  the  name  of  Buonespoir  was  men- 
tioned in  his  presence;  he  swaggered  ever 
before  the  royal  court  and  De  Carteret  of  St. 
Ouen's ;  and  he  spoke  proudly  of  his  friend- 
ship with  the  Duke's  Daughter,  who  had  ad- 
mired the  cut  of  his  jerkin  at  the  court  of 
Elizabeth.  But  in  the  house  where  Angele 
had  lived  he  moved  about  as  though  in  the 
presence  of  a  beloved  sleeper  he  would  not 
awake. 

Michel  and  Angele  had  had  their  few  years 
of  exquisite  life  and  love,  and  had  gone; 
Lemprief e  had  longer  measure  of  life  and  lit- 
tle love,  and  who  shall  say  which  had  more 
profit  of  breath  and  being  ?  The  generations 
have  passed  away,  and  the  Angel  of  Equity 
hath  a  smiling  pity  as  she  scans  the  scales 
and  the  weighing  of  the  past. 

THE    END 


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